


The Afterlife

by DarkJonerys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Fix-It, Jon deals with depression, Jonerys, Jonerys Endgame, Kidnapping, Long Road to Forgiveness, Mental Health Issues, More sympathetic towards Daenerys, Pregnancy, Pro Daenerys, Resurrection, Sansa bashing, Slow Burn, Stark bashing, Still a Jonerys endgame, Targlings (ASoIaF), Team Dany, boat baby, boatbaby, boatie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-03-01 15:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkJonerys/pseuds/DarkJonerys
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen fell from a knife to the heart in the throne room of the Red Keep. The Lord of Light had other ideas, for there was a reason why Daenerys needed to live. The true Princess who was Promised would bring the dawn, but first, she would be thrown to the wolves.A fix it fic based on the "Bad Leaks" of 8x06, which unfortunately happened to be true.*** Warning: Jon is the King of the Seven Kingdoms in this story because the first 2.5 chapters were written before 8x06. I never saw leaks about Bran and Sansa.





	1. The Dragon's Lament

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about the bad leaks. This has been in my head since I saw them, and I wanted to get it out before tonight's episode. I'm hoping that we don't need this to cope, but if it happens I will pretend this is the ending. I'm not the best writer, but comment what you think of the story!
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> Well this didn't age well...
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> Warning: Jon is the King because I wrote the first chapter before 8x05 and thought the crown would fall into his lap (I never saw leaks about Bran and Sansa), Stark bashing (mostly Sansa bashing), Kidnapping, Slow burn redemption, Jon deals with mental health issues, Pro Daenerys

Daenerys' hand had clutched her stomach before falling after Jon put his dagger in her heart. The pain was worse than anything she had ever felt in her life, and she could feel everything in her body start to shut down. _Please, the baby, _her mind screamed in agony as her vision faded to black. She heard Drogon's devastated screeches as he began to burn the throne room to the ground, and then everything started to fade away. Her life had already ended when Drogon carefully, but swiftly grabbed her body and flew across the sea.__

____

____

"It's all right," Daenerys heard as she jolted awake, as naked as her Nameday. Panic filled her chest, and she couldn't breathe when her memories came back. Jon had killed her intentionally, and her advisors had betrayed her. The woman rubbed her shoulder as she sobbed, "You're alive."

Drogon screeched happily as he tried to stuff his head into the window, and Daenerys smiled meekly through her tears at his enthusiasm.

"The Lord of Light may have brought you back, but it was your dragon's love that got you here, Daenerys." The woman said as Daenerys finally took the time to look at her savior. "My name is Kinvara. I am a Red Priestess of Asshai. I have been waiting a long time to meet you."

"The baby. Is it..." Daenerys choked back a sob as she clutched her stomach. Her abdomen was still slightly swollen.

"The baby is alive. I've seen her destiny in the flames," Kinvara said as she handed her a silk lilac gown. "She will be born healthy."

"She?" Daenerys asked as she held up the gown. It reminded her of the thin flowy dresses in Quarth, and she wished that she had one of her dragon gowns.

"The true Princess who is Promised," Kinvara said. "Hers is the song of ice and fire."

"Only fire," Daenerys whispered as a tear trickled down her cheek. She tried not to think of Jon, but looking down at the massive scar below her breast, she couldn't help but let out a sob. Her chest began to burn as she cried, and she began panicking again.

Kinvara grabbed a goblet that she had prepared beforehand and put it to Daenerys' lips, "It's Milk of the Poppy." Daenerys relaxed after a few sips, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Weeks later, Daenerys finally got the courage to leave the room that she had been resurrected in, after Kinvara's insistence. She had thought Drogon had taken her South, to Dorne or the Reach perhaps, but as she left the room, her breath caught in her throat. She hurriedly went to a room across the hall, and cried out of happiness when she saw the lemon tree outside the window.

Daenerys practically ran down the stairwell and through the downstairs halls to see the door that she had been dreaming about ever since they were forced to leave it. She never thought she would see it again. As she turned the knob slowly, her new heart thumped in anticipation.

"Greyworm?" Daenerys cried as she opened the door. He was standing on the first step, while the other Unsullied and what was left of her Dothraki horde stood behind him.

They both started crying, and soon she was in his arms, even though neither of them had ever been physically affectionate with the other before. He stroked her back soothingly as she cried into his shoulder. Kinvara had been wonderful, but she was grateful to see a familiar face.

"You died, and Greyworm had no purpose anymore," Greyworm said. "When Red Woman came to bring us here, I didn't believe her, but Daenerys Targaryen lives." Greyworm smiled when he noticed her holding her growing belly. He placed his hand in the center of her stomach, and she thought it was strange to have someone else feel for the baby. "You are with child."

"I can feel her move inside me, but not on the outside yet," Daenerys said. She tried to blink away tears that threatened to fall as she thought about Jon. He would have had his hands on her belly more than she did, and even if he didn't love her, which he couldn't have, he would have loved the baby.

"Does it get easier?" She asked, wondering how Greyworm was coping.

"No," Greyworm said looking distant for a moment. His heart never stopped aching for Missandei. "But Missandei loved me, never betrayed me."

Daenerys nodded knowing that she would never come to terms with what Jon did to her. She would always love him and would never understand why he had taken her life.

Greyworm took her hand and led her back inside the house with the red door. For the first time in weeks, Daenerys could say that she was happy.

...

When Daenerys went into labor, she thought that she was going to die. She couldn't remember most of Rhaego's birth, but it she did know it was more painful this time. Greyworm held her hand the entire time, and Kinvara whispered words of encouragement as her contractions became closer together.

She screamed in agony when the Dothraki midwife told her to push. Jon Snow hadn't succeeded in killing her the first time, but she was afraid that he would be victorious now. Her own mother had died bringing her into the world.

It seemed like hours had gone by as she pushed, "I can't do it anymore." Greyworm squeezed her hand in encouragement.

"Chir hazze, Khaleesi," _Almost there. ___

____

____

Daenerys pushed as hard as she could and breathed a sigh of relief when the baby finally slid out and started to cry.

"Shekhikhi Khalakki," _Little princess, _the woman said as she handed the baby over to Daenerys.__

____

____

Daenerys cried as she stroked her baby's soft cheek. She was the most perfect thing that she had ever seen, and the long birth was worth it in the end.

Kinvara took the baby to give her a bath when Daenerys was strong enough to move. The two Dothraki woman cleaned off the blood on her thighs and helped Daenerys into a clean nightgown, while another changed the sheets.

"What is little princess's name?" Greyworm asked as soon as the Dothraki midwives cleaned Daenerys and the baby up.

She often thought about the baby to distract herself from darker thoughts, and she had spent a long time trying to choose a name. She had always wanted her first living child to have a traditional Targaryen sounding name, even if it would never happen.

When Jon gave her hope that the witch was wrong, she began to dream of the multitude of children that she wanted. Even after the Battle of Winterfell, her dreams and thoughts betrayed her. She dreamt of a little girl with silver soft-spun curls, who danced to the sound of her dragons. Rhaeanna or Lyella, Daenerys had thought; a way for them to both honor the mother's they had never met. If she was blessed with a boy, she had wanted to name him Rhaegar, after the king who never was. It was a tribute to the man who brought Jon Snow into her life, and for her beautiful green child who she didn't know was going to be shot and plunged into the sea. She could never name a child after her own father, after all.

She had once thought she was a fool for dreaming of a child she could never have. It was a simpler time then, when her only worries were Jon and the iron throne. Everything had spiraled out of control since then.

"Rhaella," Daenerys crooned stroking Rhaella's feathery silver hair as she nursed her left breast above the nasty scar where Jon had plunged his knife into her heart. She tried to focus on the baby as she looked up at her with big violet eyes. It seemed only fitting to name her daughter after the woman who had given her life, since the baby was the only reason why she would ever want to live in this new one. Daenerys needed Rhaella as much as she needed her, for the pain in her heart was nearly too much to bear.

"Rhaella Missandei of House Targaryen," Daenerys whispered. Missandei would have loved her as if she was her own, and tears pricked in her eyes as she thought about everything Rhaella would never have. Rhaella would never know all the people who supported her mother and died bravely, she would never know her brothers who fell from the sky nor the one born from her mother's womb, she would never know her father nor her other family, and she would never get to have a crown placed on her head.

Rhaella would never get to live in the world that was supposed to be hers, all because her father had decided to kill them.

"Love," Greyworm said. He had tears in his eyes as he touched the baby's cheek. Daenerys looked up at him through her own and saw how much he cared.

Greyworm knew what she was thinking. He would watch over her, even when she didn't think he was around. She had screamed and cried into Drogon's scales many times, voicing her sorrows to the world.

"We will show love, the Unsullied, the Dothraki, your people. Family loves, not kills. We will protect the little princess from the wolves across the sea and teach her many things." Greyworm said. "Little princess comes from Daenerys Targaryen, we will be her fathers, brothers, friends, and teachers." Daenerys took his hand in hers, her lip trembling into a smile. "It never gets easier, but maybe little princess will save us all."

...

It wasn't long before Rhaella grew into a toddler, and Daenerys found out it really did take a village to raise a child. It was never hard to spot her daughter, for her pale skin and hair always gave her away.

She liked to watch Rhaella run and laugh with the Dothraki children. The older ones would hoist her onto their shoulders and pretend to be horses, just like they did with the younger ones. She was always included in whatever games they played, despite being different. They taught her songs and showed her animals and bugs they caught.

She liked watching the women hold Rhaella in their laps as they told tales of legendary horse lords to their children. They braided her hair and sang Dothraki lullabies to lull her into her afternoon naps. They bathed her with their children and put her in their traditional clothing. The men showed her their horses, and Daenerys loved hearing her squeal with joy every time they lifted her up to let her touch the horses' noses. They kept a watchful eye on her and scolded her whenever she was out of line.

The Unsullied guarded her and taught her things about the world. They taught her how to swim and to face her fears. She liked watching Rhaella swim in the shallow tide pools on the beach with Greyworm as he told her tales of Missandei and the Dragon Queen. More often than not, Daenerys would find shells lying around from her adventures.

Daenerys also loved watching her interact with Drogon. Greyworm had cautioned her many times, but Daenerys trusted her daughter with Drogon more than she did with anyone else. Every time Rhaella was around he would make a guttural purring noise, which he hadn't done in in a long time. Rhaella loved her brother, and Drogon adored her even more. She was too little to be able to fully climb on his back, but she tried, and he let her. Perhaps in another life, Viserion would have been hers, but Daenerys tried not to think about that.

Most of all, Daenerys loved when Rhaella ran into her arms and looked at her like she was the most important person in the world. She loved when Rhaella peppered her with kisses and laughed when she tickled her sides. Daenerys loved that Rhaella wanted to spend time with her, and she loved getting snuggled by her baby. Her daughter was loved and cherished, and that's all Daenerys ever wanted for herself as a child. She now had a home and people who supported her, but the darkness still plagued her mind at times.

Rhaella was six when Daenerys fully noticed that she had the pale Northern complexion, when no matter how long she was in the sun, she didn't tan. The only bit of color was on her cheeks, and Daenerys tried not to look at her porcelain chest and belly after bath time. She thanked the Gods that Rhaella had the rest of the Targaryen coloring, since Jon's skin tone was enough to set her off. Daenerys was also unnerved when Rhaella's eyes glinted a certain way when she was mad. She would have much preferred the dragon's rage over the wolf's calm demeanor and murderous gaze. Sansa Stark looked at her that way, and so had Jon before the blow. She would often have to look away or leave the room.

While she knew the day was coming, Daenerys teetered on the edge when Rhaella asked, "Why don't I have a kepa?" A father. Rhaella could speak High Valyrian, Dothraki, and Braavosi better the Common Tongue, and father was not a term that Daenerys had ever used.

"He didn't choose us, my little dragon," Daenerys whispered as she remembered Jon pulling out his sword. All she thought about was the baby, and the pain of her life fading away. It was far crueler to both of them if she lied.

"Why?"

"He listened to the wrong people," Sansa, Arya, Samwell Tarly, Tyrion, Varys... the names chanted in Daenerys' head over and over as she tried to stop the madness from taking over. She couldn't help the tears from spilling down her cheeks. "They told him I was bad." And perhaps she was a monster after what she had done, even though she hardly remembered doing it.

"He knows nothing. You're the best Mummy in the world," Rhaella said with the wolf's glint in her eye. Daenerys laughed as she scooped her up; her boiling blood cooled enough to keep her sane.

"Avy jorrāelan, zaldrīzītsos," _I love you, little dragon, _Daenerys said, knowing that she would have to tell her the entire story one day.__

____

____

...

On Rhaella's tenth Nameday, Daenerys decided to tell her the truth about the past. She started out by giving her daughter a chest filled with the last remnants of being the Dragon Queen. Greyworm had brought a few of her dresses, her silver dragon chains and pins, and a Targaryen flag with him when he and her people filed into Kinvara's boat to greet her in Braavos.

"Will you braid my hair with the pins?" Rhaella asked as she held up the black dress. The material was thick and soft, such a contrast to the leather and silk she was accustomed to wearing. It wasn't suited for the heat, but it was beautiful.

Daenerys nodded and motioned for her to sit down. She wished Missandei was there to give her support, but the woman had been gone longer than she had known her. Her hands trembled slightly as she sectioned off Rhaella's hair and began to braid.

"Your father's name is Aegon Targaryen, but everyone knew him as Jon Snow," Daenerys felt her stiffen, and she was glad her back was turned. "He came to me to ask for dragon glass, a black stone that could kill the army of the dead. I didn't believe him, until I saw them all." Greyworm had already told her about the Battle of Winterfell, excluding Jon. She knew how her brothers, Missandei, and Jorah had fallen. "We fell in love on the way to Winterfell, and everything was perfect, until he told me he was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He was my nephew, and I begged him not to tell because the secret would tear us apart."

While Daenerys told her stories of her ancestors, incest was not a topic she dwelled on. If Rhaella was bothered by it, she didn't say anything, and it gave Daenerys the courage to continue, "He told his sister- cousin- Sansa Stark, and she told my advisors. They betrayed me and whispered to Jon that I was going mad. And... well... he plunged a knife into my heart. Kinvara brought me back." Daenerys said as she finished the braids. Rhaella whipped her head around and looked at her in shock.

"And he just killed you like you never meant anything to him? Did he know about me?" Rhaella asked as Daenerys hung her head in shame. She wrapped her arms around her mother as tears pricked in her eyes as well.

"When I found out he had already pulled away from me. There was never a good time," Daenerys said. "I was going to tell him before..." She didn't continue the sentence and Rhaella knew: before he killed me.

"Who holds the iron throne now?"

"No one. Drogon destroyed most of the Red Keep, and he melted the iron throne so I've been told. Jon is the King of the Seven Kingdoms, but he rules from the North," Dany said. She saw the wolf's glint in her daughter's eyes, "Rhaella..."

"I say we take Drogon and torch the North," Rhaella said with a look of determination that reminded Daenerys of herself. "You told me that the Targaryen words were Fire and Blood."

"Rhaella," Daenerys scolded halfheartedly. "They're your family."

"No, you're my family. Why is it fair that he took everything away from you, and he gets to keep it? What did he ever give you in return? A knife to the heart, that's what," Rhaella said almost to the point of shouting. Perhaps she had more dragon blood in her than Daenerys realized.

"He gave me you," Daenerys whispered. She would have gladly traded the iron throne for a child, but not at the price she paid. "Sometimes, I feel myself slipping into madness, but then I look at you, and I know that I have to keep fighting. I've fought every day for my entire life, and I'm tired. We could burn the North, but I'm not willing to risk losing you or Drogon."

"You still love him," Rhaella said sadly.

"It feels like I've been stabbed every day. It would be easier to hate him, " Daenerys said looking distant. "But it's your Nameday, and it should be happy. Look in the bottom." Daenerys said eyeing the chest.

Rhaella pulled all of the dresses and trinkets out of the box and gasped. Nestled in red velvet were three dragon eggs. She picked up the white and silver one in the middle and cradled it in her arms. "How did you get these?" She could feel the dragon's heart beating in unison with her own.

"Drogon. Dragons don't have a gender, but he was the mother and Rhaegal was the father."

"How will I know when to hatch them?" Rhaella asked.

"You'll know when the time is right," Daenerys smiled knowingly, just as she had known to give them to her now. Rhaella jumped into her arms and expressed her gratitude.

...

The Dothraki and the Unsullied cheered as Rhaella stepped out of the flames with three baby dragons perched on her shoulders. Daenerys handed her a robe and smiled proudly.

"This one," Rhaella said pointing to the dragon that was the color of sand, "will be named Missandys after the woman who loyally stood by my Mother and was her dearest friend. May she spend her days in Seventh Heaven on the beach. And this one," she said pointing to the slate gray and blue one, "shall be named Jorion, after the man who saved mine and my Mother's life in the Battle of Winterfell and many times before then. May he rest assured that he served his Queen and Princess well," Rhaella smiled before looking at the white and silver dragon. "And this one will be named Daenera after the strongest and bravest woman I know, my Mother. She sacrificed everything to be where she is today. She will always be the Queen in my heart."

The dragons let out tiny roars, and a wave of cheers broke out again. One of the Dothraki men hoisted her onto his shoulders and paraded her around for all to see.

...

"What is that in the sky?" Sansa asked as she came up to Bran and Jon in the Godswood. Bran was the first to look at her before he turned his head up to the sky. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as he visited the past.

"It's a comet, Sansa," Jon said without looking up. His eye remained fixated on something in the distance. He was worse than Bran sometimes, and she had half the mind to live with Arya at Storm's End when she wasn't visiting Winterfell.

"A bleeding star," Bran said when he came back. Sansa sighed, and Jon smirked a little. "She is so beautiful. She looks like her, you know."

"Who are you talking about?" Sansa asked.

"It's an omen," Bran said, ignoring Sansa's question. Instead he looked at Jon, "An omen of dragons."

"The dragons are gone, Bran," Jon said. He stood up abruptly, not wanting to hear any more nonsense. He came to the Godswood for peace and to beg for forgiveness, not for Sansa to egg on Bran.

"Not all of them," Bran said.

"Is Drogon planning on coming back to burn us all?" Sansa said jokingly. Jon glared at her and her smile fell.

"Not today," Bran said looking up at the sky again. "But he would do it if he was commanded to."

"He doesn't have anyone to command him anymore," Sansa said with a relieved smile. Drogon hadn't been seen or heard from since he left with Daenerys' body a decade ago, but the thought that he would come back to seek revenge was always in the back of her mind.

"You really don't know," Bran said looking at Jon again. "Daenerys never told you."

"Told me what?" Jon said becoming enraged. He didn't want to hear a word about her after what he did. She deserved to rest in peace without her name being uttered by dirty Northern lips, even if it was just Bran.

"Jon," Sansa put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away.

"What didn't she tell me about?" He demanded.

"The baby," Bran said as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. For a moment, Jon and Sansa were too stunned to do anything but stare at each other.

"I never should have fucking told you," Jon shouted in anguish, as he broke the thick silence. Sansa flinched and looked at the ground. "You swore under the Heart Tree that you would keep my secret."

"I didn't know things would go that far," Sansa said as her face paled. She had never seen Jon so angry.

"You wanted her gone!"

"You killed her, not me," Sansa said cruelly as she tried to defend herself. She didn't specifically want Daenerys dead; she only wanted her out of their lives. Jon's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"She told me what would happen, and I was too stupid to listen. I chose the wrong family," Jon said as tears pooled in his eyes. "I killed the woman I loved. I killed my own child. They both survived two wars, and I'm the one who did it."

Sansa was going to reassure him that he had chosen right, but for once she decided to keep her mouth shut.

"She would be ten," Jon's voice cracked. He shook with trembling sobs that he tried to hold in. "Bran said she was beautiful. How could she not be if she looked like Dany?"

"She could've been like Joffrey. She could have gone Mad like Daenerys," Sansa said. Joffrey was beautiful, but the incest had made him Mad. The Targaryens suffered from generations of inbreeding. "She wouldn't be one of us."

Jon took a step back as if he had been slapped. He never expected her to be friends with Dany, but to openly say something like that about their baby broke his heart, as if it could be ripped into more pieces than it currently was. "And they say Cersei Lannister died that day. I only see her now." Sansa's jaw dropped open as Jon angrily brushed past her and headed towards the castle. Dany and the baby would have been alive if he had noticed sooner.

The inhabitants of Winterfell would be plagued by their King's screams for many nights to come.


	2. Dragonstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have 3.5 hours of knowing Daenerys Targaryen is alive... I am so sad...

Daenerys was afraid to leave the house with the red door. She hardly ever went past the safe confines of the little village that had sprung up around them in fear that someone from Westeros would recognize her. She lived in fear that someone would think Rhaella was her, and she couldn't bear the thought of her daughter being taken away.

Rhaella had never known true fear. She didn't know what it was like to be on the run, abused in every way, unloved and unwanted, used, and betrayed. She couldn't remember the pain of her life being ripped away from her body. Greyworm had kept his promise, and she was only showered in love.

Daenera, Missandys, and Jorion were growing faster than her dragons ever had. She supposed it was because they were completely free and well taken care of. There was no red waste, and they were never put in cages. Perhaps they were a direct extension to Rhaella who thrived in the family they built. It soon grew into a problem when Daenera was big enough for her to ride, and Rhaella didn't realize what the consequences truly were if someone recognized them.

Daenerys reluctantly buried her fears and rode Drogon for the first time since that fateful day in King's Landing to show Rhaella how to do it the right way. She showed her which spikes to grab and which ones to switch to if the dragon made a sharp turn or dive. While she had jumped on Drogon and quickly learned as he flew, she wasn't a child. She wanted Rhaella to be as safe and prepared as possible.

Tears of joy sparkled in her eyes when Rhaella took off on Daenera for the first time. The sun caught the white dragon's translucent scales, and she sparkled like a thousand glittering diamonds. None of the other dragons created the same effect. Rhaella's silver curls bounced with the wind and her smile lit up Daenerys' dark world. 

She waved happily down at her mother and squealed with joy when Daenerys decided to jump on Drogon to join her. Drogon let Daenera take the lead, and Rhaella kept smiling mischievously as she occasionally looked behind her. Daenerys smirked, knowing that Drogon was purposely letting his human little sister win the nonexistent race. She wondered if Rhaella's happiness also brought him comfort.

Watching Rhaella ride Daenera brought her back to the past. She thought about the first time Jon Snow rode Rhaegal. Her beautiful green son was shy at first, but he became so excited when Jon first approached him. She should have taught him properly, but it was more fun to tease him, and they were running out of time; he needed to be prepared to fight the dead. She finally saw what everyone else did when she rode Drogon. She was in complete awe then. Now, it only left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She should have never let him near her heart. Jon Snow had taken all she had and finished her off. Her only comfort was knowing that he would never be close enough to Rhaella to destroy her, too, even though he already tried. She was too innocent and good to deserve a fate like that. Sometimes, Daenerys didn't understand why the Gods she didn't believe in blessed her with Rhaella when she was a monster and Jon Snow was a self righteous backstabber. Their child should have been like Viserys, not sweet and compassionate. Rhaella could get the most hardened Dothraki warriors to love her and the emotionless Unsullied to fall on their knees with a few kind words. Daenerys was never able to restore the Targaryen name back to its former glory, but Rhaella would perhaps end the reign of Targaryen madness. Her daughter only had love here.

While it was nice to fly and pretend that she was still the Mother of Dragons, she never joined Rhaella again after they had finally landed back in their yard. It was a bittersweet feeling, but Daenerys decided to pass on her title for she was only the Mother of Drogon. She may have first brought dragons into the world, but Rhaella had the power to make sure they thrived. 

Perhaps one day seeing a dragon in the sky would be a common occurrence.

...

"Dead," Greyworm said as he poked his blunt sword into her belly. "You are getting better."

Rhaella scowled and tried to keep her frustrated tears from falling. At least he hadn't knocked her down this time, but she hardly ever lasted more than a few minutes. She intentionally dropped the sword, and everyone looked up from what they were doing when they heard it clang. Daenerys, who had been watching, had a worried look in her eyes.

"It will take years to beat me," Greyworm said as he put his hand her shoulder. She looked away, but Greyworm smiled. "The Unsullied are the greatest fighters in the world, and you have lasted longer than most men, little princess. Don't be upset." His words did nothing to make her feel better.

She called to Daenera in her mind, needing to get away to collect her feelings. There was no place for her to be unhappy in her little village; everyone made sure of that.

"Rhaella, don't," she heard her mother call as her dragon landed and she quickly climbed on her back. She didn't listen, and Daenera took off into the sky.

Rhaella knew her mother hated when she was gone for hours on Daenera. She understood why Daenerys was always overprotective, but she was tired of never being able to go anywhere beyond the Dothraki village and Unsullied camps. No one ever allowed her to feel anything besides happiness, which wore on her when everyone tried to invalidate her negative emotions. She loved her family, but ever since her mother told her about the past, things were eating away at the back of her mind. Even though Daenerys revealed her burden, she never wanted to share it with Rhaella. It was too late because she already felt the sorrow of knowing the truth. Rhaella also wanted to see the world, but not just any place; she wanted to see where her ancestors came from.

Rhaella was always careful to make sure they flew close to the clouds, where no one would be able to tell the difference between a bird or a dragon. Usually it was easy for Daenera to blend in, for Dragonstone was always shrouded in billowing clouds and gloom.

It was said that the Dragon Queen had cursed the island, and the castle was filled with ghosts and spirits. It remained virtually untouched for many had claimed to see the ghost of the vengeful Queen on the back of a dragon. Rhaella knew it was nonsense. Only long forgotten secrets haunted Dragonstone's halls, and the grim solitude created a somber atmosphere. Rhaella found comfort in the quiet castle. 

While exploring, she came across her mother's chambers, and it satisfied a desperate longing to know what her mother had been like. She liked running her hand along all of the dragon gowns that had never again seen the light of day. Most of them were black or varying shades of gray, but there were a few red ones and a beautiful white fur dress. Her favorite one was a black dress with a red cape that looked like dragon scales and a silver dragon chain.

Out of morbid curiosity, she put the gown on and felt like she would be scolded any minute as if she made a huge mistake. It was too big for her, but it didn't matter. The feeling that she had done something wrong was suddenly replaced with a feeling of clarity and rightness. In that moment, she wasn't just Rhaella, she was Princess Rhaella of the House Targaryen, heir of the Seven Kingdoms.

She walked to the room with the painted table and felt as if she ruled the world. The little pawns were covered in a layer of dust, likely never touched again after her mother's armies had gone to take the iron throne. Rhaella never bothered to play with them; instead she always made her way to the window to watch the sea.

Daenera circled around the bay and always dove towards the same area. It made Rhaella's heart ache, for she knew that it was where her dragon brother's final resting spot laid. She wished that she had gotten the chance to meet both Rhaegal and Viserion. She knew she would have loved them. 

One wish usually turned into a dozen more.

Rhaella's thoughts turned darker, and she wished that her father hadn't killed her mother. She wondered if she would have been titled the Princess of Dragonstone or if a little brother would have taken that place. If she could change the past and take away all of her mother's pain, she wouldn't have cared if she was the heir or not. If her mother wanted her to marry a brother because it was the Targaryen way, she would have done it without question if that's what it took to go back in time. She would have liked to have human siblings. The Gods were cruel and also took Rhaego away. 

She had hoped Greyworm and her mother would find happiness in each other, but their hearts never healed from losing their other halves. The two best people in the entire world would never be whole again. Rhaella squeezed her eyes shut, and all she could see was red. 

Rhaella hated Aegon Targaryen, whoever he was. She wanted him to watch as Daenera burned his Northern family alive one by one, and as Missandys and Jorion hunted his Northern friends. She wanted to stab him as he watched Drogon get revenge and burn his castle to the ground. Perhaps the worst thought of all was that she wanted him to admit his mistakes to her mother and profess his undying love for her, so they could be a family.

Rhaella couldn't stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks as she leaned on the stone pillar.

...

It was Davos' duty to check up on Dragonstone and Kings Landing every so often before or after going to visit Gendry and Arya at Storm's End. This was a special trip; Arya and Gendry would accompany him back to Winterfell for the twelfth anniversary of Jon's reign, so he went before.

He didn't know why Jon still wanted him to do it considering it had remained untouched. It was no secret that the people who had survived The Burning of King's Landing thought it was cursed by Daenerys Targaryen. Perhaps he wanted to know if the rumors were true. Nonetheless, Davos still walked throughout the castle and checked the empty rooms.

The dust and cobwebs had grown thick in some areas, and he thought that it would be a good idea for it to be cleaned up, but nothing else seemed amiss until he came to the room with the painted table. The door was slightly ajar, and he had an eerie feeling even though he couldn't remember whether he had closed it or not the year before.

Davos' stomach plummeted as he heard soft sobs and stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on the weeping form of Daenerys Targaryen.

"Seven hells, I must be going mad if I'm seeing Daenerys bloody Targaryen," he said aloud.

Rhaella went numb and she slowly looked at the man who entered the room. She was frozen in her tracks, and as he inched closer, she prayed that he would be scared enough to leave. He would know she wasn't a ghost and would certainly know she was not Daenerys if he got the courage to walk up to her. She wondered if he had known her mother personally or if it was her silver hair that triggered a memory.

Right as Davos was going to face his fear of approaching the spectre, a white dragon flew past the window. Rhaegal's ghostly wings almost touched the glass, and he knew it was a warning to leave. He spun around quickly and decided that Dragonstone had passed the inspection well enough.

...

Rhaella was usually the first to fall asleep as she cuddled into Daenerys' side. She had always slept with her mother even though she had her own bedchamber next door, and it was a mutual source of comfort.

She could hear her mother's soft breaths, and knew she was asleep. The blood rushed through her body and every pulse point throbbed as a foreboding sense of dread rotted in her stomach. Even though the man thought she was a ghost, she had been seen.

To be found out was her mother's greatest fear.

...

Celebrations for Jon's coronation anniversary had started early in the afternoon. Most of the staff were preparing for the great feast, and the Stark family wouldn't join in until the evening. The morning was for the small folk to enjoy.

Davos joined Gendry in the tilt yard and smiled at a pair of young squires who were practicing their sword fighting. He didn't like being cooped up in the castle, and Jon despised this day as much as the anniversary of the day he killed Daenerys. He figured that he might as well get some fresh air before the wine came out and he was subjected to Jon's brooding all night.

After keeping his thoughts to himself for weeks, he finally decided to tell Gendry about what he had seen at Dragonstone. Davos pulled him aside and told him about seeing Daenerys and the ghost of her dragon.

"Have you told his grace?" Gendry asked. He didn't believe in ghosts, but he knew Davos had his superstitions.

"No, and I don't plan it. The next thing we need is for him to drown on Dragonstone because the bloody ghost of Daenerys Targaryen told him to jump," Davos said. Jon's emotional state hadn't been right ever since Bran told him about the baby.

"It wasn't the ghost of Daenerys Targaryen," a monotone voice rang out and both Davos and Gendry jumped.

"Bran," Davos said and nodded. The lad always seemed to sneak up to people at the most inopportune moments. "I saw the dragon, never mind the girl."

"What did he see then?" Gendry asked.

"Who," Bran replied and looked distant for a moment.

"All right then, if not Daenerys, who did I see?" Davos asked. Bran tended to make him more confused than anything.

"Rhaella," Bran replied. A trace of a smile rested on his lips as he said the name. "Jon's daughter."

Davos and Gendry both stared at each other with a shocked expression on their faces. Daenerys couldn't have been far enough along for the baby to survive out of the womb. "What do we tell him?" Gendry asked as he finally found his voice.

"When the time is right, tell him that we have brought him a gift," Bran said. "I am going to bring her home."

Bran's eyes rolled back in his head as Davos and Gendry now were holders of a major secret that would change everything.

Back in Essos, Rhaella didn't understand why Daenera was going a way they had never been and wasn't responding to her at all. She couldn't see that Daenera's eyes had rolled back and were a cloudy shade of white.


	3. Fallen Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I prayed that the leaks weren't true, and this story would be another crazy AU. For a few days, I literally thought that I wouldn't be able to cope without Daenerys. She is my ultimate favorite character out of all books/movies/TV shows that I have watched. I know it's stupid, but she was real to me, and her death has affected me more than I thought would be possible.
> 
> How horrible it must have been to finally think Jon was choosing her, only for him to kill her in the same way his Night's Watch brothers, whom he loved, did... And poor sweet Drogon, who has to live for another couple hundred years without his brothers and mother...
> 
> On a less sad note, fanfiction has thoroughly convinced me that Drogon has brought her to Kinvara to be resurrected. So yeah she is alive people. No need to be sad anymore.
> 
> Also, for anyone new, I wrote this before episode 5. I would say that almost everything is canon, except that Jon is king of the Seven Kingdoms from Winterfell (Bran and Sansa don't rule anything). Also, after traveling the world, Arya married Gendry. The only thing I am undecided about is whether Jon chose Tyrion or Davos to be his Hand. Comment which one you would prefer and why.

"You got them done," Bran said as Sansa held up one of the gowns. The one she chose to show him was crimson and accented with black. It was her favorite, but Bran looked uninterested and zoned in on a pale gray one with white under skirts and delicate silver embroidery. 

"Of course I did," she said. Sansa didn't know what to make of Bran's request to make children's dresses. He gave her a list of colors and said they were for an important guest. She wondered which new Lyanna Mormont type child would be arriving for Jon's feast.

"Podrick," Bran said turning behind him to face the man who was helping him get around. Podrick nervously smiled. "Take these to Davos. Tell him that it has to be that one," Bran said pointing at the gown he had been staring at.

"So you've told Davos who our secret guest is, but not your family," Sansa said after handing all of them to Podrick. "I worked for hours on these and you won't tell me who this girl is."

"You will know soon," Bran said. 

"It's not enough," Sansa said raising her voice. "Why is this girl so important?

"Will you keep quiet down there?" Jon yelled as he flung his door open and drunkenly stumbled out. He was wearing soiled clothing and looked like he hadn't bathed in days. He staggered down the hall towards them. "Not so loud, you'll wake the babe."

"Jon?" Sansa said concerned. "You should be getting ready for the feast."

"I can't get ready for the bloody feast, Sansa. Dany needs me to help with the baby," Jon said as he touched the wall to keep himself from falling.

"Jon, Daenerys is dead. There is no baby," Sansa said and he looked at her with contempt. As she was about to try to make him see reason, Podrick put a hand on her arm. 

Jon glared at her once more before he staggered back to his room. He muttered something about Dany and slammed the door shut.

"We have to do something," Sansa said as she stared at Jon's door and shrugged Pod's arm off.

"My Lady, it is a kindness to let him be," Podrick said. "Let him hang onto the good visions of Daenerys, and speak up when he is being self destructive."

"And what do you think, Bran? Is it mercy to let him believe that Daenerys and his child are alive?" She asked.

"It won't matter tomorrow," Bran said cryptically. He had let Daenera go free for a few minutes to make sure everything was going according to plan, and she was already following Rhaella's commands. "He is out of wine; the visions will fade."

His eyes rolled back to catch the dragon.

Sansa stormed out of the hall.

...

Something was wrong with Daenera. Rhaella couldn't feel a connection with her anymore, and she continued to fly straight despite her protests to turn around. The dragon was heading in the opposite direction of Dragonstone into unfamiliar territory. It seemed like for a brief moment, Daenera's spell had been lifted, but it soon came back into full force. She tried commands in every language she knew, but nothing worked.

As Daenera continued on, the temperature plummeted. Rhaella's tears were frozen to her cheeks as the icy wind whipped her face. She closed her eyes and laid herself over her dragon to take in it's body heat. Her main concern now was freezing to death, since her dress was made for the scorching heat. She wanted to be home, snuggling in her mother's warm embrace.

Perhaps if she would have opened her eyes, she would have noticed that Daenera had gradually flown down closer to the ground. She would have noticed that people had come out of their houses and looked up in horror as the white dragon headed towards Winterfell. Instead, she gripped Daenera's spikes with her frozen hands and prayed to the Lord of Light to take her home and make her warm again. 

Rhaella didn't open her eyes, until Daenera screeched and dove to the ground between a castle and a Weirwood tree.

...

Jon thought about ending his misery during his coherent moments as much as he thought about Daenerys and the baby. Every time he fell asleep he would relive killing her, and sometimes he would see her weeping about his betrayal in the halls. He heard her voice sometimes and the crying of a babe, and it haunted him.

He had almost fallen on Long Claw several times, but even in death, he still wouldn't get to be with Dany or their babe. Dany would be in Seventh Heaven with their daughter and everyone who she had loved in life, whereas Jon knew he would be going to one of the seven hells. Living was almost a fate worse than death, for he had to live with the guilt of killing his love and his child.

If their looks of pity weren't enough, he knew his family and friends whispered about how he was going mad. Everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around him, except for Sansa, and he wanted her to keep her mouth shut more than anything.

The servants had forced him to bathe and get dressed, but it was Davos who made him to come down to the feast. He didn't care about any of it. He didn't want the crown nor the fancy celebrations his council insisted on having. He hated the words of praise everyone gave him when they came up to him most of all. The only thing good that came out of it was that he got to see Arya.

When he spotted Sam's daughter, tears pricked in his eyes. His would have been the same age, and perhaps they would have been as close as he and Sam had been. Davos, who had been nervously glancing at him the whole time, looked at him in warning. However, Jon already decided that he wasn't going to stay for another minute. Sansa looked as if she was about to scold him as he stood up, but he paid no attention to anyone as he slipped out into the side hallway.

Gendry and Davos were both on edge as Jon left the great hall. Perhaps Bran was fooling both of them and they had nothing to worry about. No one at the lower tables seemed to notice Jon's disappearance. In fact, everyone seemed to be having a great time.

"Is something wrong?" Arya asked Gendry, who seemed to be avoiding her eye contact.

"No," Gendry said with a weak smile. Arya's eyes pierced into his, and he could tell that she knew he was lying. "I'm just not feeling-"

He was cut off by the castle shaking. Wine glasses fell over, and the loudness was replaced by silence. Everyone completely stopped what they were doing and stared at one another. 

When everyone started to relax, the unmistakable sound of a dragon's cry pierced the air.

"Nobody panic!" Davos shouted as a wave of hysteria broke out. "I'll go outside and take a look around." 

Gendry stood up and nodded at Davos. If this wasn't their signal from Bran, he didn't know what was.

"I'm coming with you," Arya said as she took out her dagger. She had a look of determination in her eyes, and Gendry sighed.

Gendry put his hand on her arm and shook his head, "No, it's safer here."

"If Drogon has come back to burn us all, it won't matter whether I am in the castle or not," Arya pointed out as she began to lead the way. Davos quickly followed her, while Gendry lagged behind, reluctantly admitting that she was right.

...

Rhaella slid off Daenera after her unceremonious landing and was met with jolting pain that raced up her frozen legs. She let out a cry as she collapsed on the ground, and Daenera thrashed her head as if she was fighting off a spell. Rhaella tried to stand, but her legs were numb and hurting. Instead, she crawled to her dragon's head.

"'Nera," Rhaella cried, as she noticed her milky white eyes. It was a losing battle, and the dragon slowly laid down as if she was going to sleep. Rhaella put her head on Daenera's snout, but it was no use.

Rhaella looked behind her to survey her surroundings. There was a large castle a league in front of her and a large Weirwood behind her. A man was sitting in a wheel chair with the same milky colored eyes as her dragon under the tree. Somehow, he was controlling Daenera.

As Rhaella took out a dagger that Greyworm had gifted her for her Nameday, the man's eyes shot open, and she could feel her dragon again. Daenera curled her neck around Rhaella protectively and screetched at the man.

"What did you do to my dragon?" Rhaella shouted in High Valyrian.

"Daenera is fine," Bran replied in the Common Tongue. Rhaella was taken aback by his use of the Westerosi language in response to her question and how he knew what her dragon's name was.

"How do you know-" she asked in the Common Tongue as Bran cut her off. It was odd to talk to someone besides her mother and Greyworm in that language.

"You named her after your mother," Bran said, "The bravest woman you've ever known, Daenerys Targaryen. " He stared at her for a moment before continuing, "I am the three eyed raven, and I know everything, Rhaella."

While Rhaella looked up at Bran with a shocked expression on her face, Arya, Gendry and Davos' face matched hers as they came up to the Weirwood tree. They were all surprised to see a significantly smaller white dragon in place of Drogon's stead.

Arya completely disregarded the white dragon as Davos' attentions were fixated on the beast and studied the young girl sitting in an awkward position on the ground. It was like seeing Daenerys Targaryen reborn again, but as the girl looked up at her with tear filled eyes and bluish lips, her blood ran cold. All she could see was Jon in her miserable little face.

"You're Rhaella Missandei of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Princess of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Princess of Dragonstone, the Unburnt, Khalakki of the Great Grass Sea, Mother of Dragons, and the rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms- the daughter of King Aegon VI and Daenerys Targaryen, the one who will bring the dawn." Bran said looking pointedly at Arya, "Tell him."

Bran's eyes rolled back in his head as he began to warg.

"No," Rhaella shouted when Daenera started to take flight as she was once again held captive by Bran. The white dragon circled in the air once as she tried to fight him off, but he quickly overpowered her, and she flew off into the distance.

"I need to go home. I can't be here," Rhaella said frantically in High Valyrian. She didn't know where she was, and now people knew of her and her mother's existence. They weren't safe anymore. "Mother... what have I done?" Rhaella cried. Daenerys would be beside herself with worry, and what if she was never able to get back home?. "Daenera! Please come back!"

Gendry didn't know what the little girl was saying as she let out a strangled cry, but he cautiously walked up to her, while Davos and Arya remained frozen in disbelief. He held out his hand, and she flinched away, muttering something that he couldn't understand, "It's okay, we won't hurt you, I'm Gendry" he said as he unpinned his cloak. She was shivering and her skin was reddening. "Let's get you warmed up inside."

"I want to go home," Rhaella said in the Common Tongue through her tears. She tried to stand up, but pain shot up through her legs. Gendry caught her before she fell.

Bran would have said that she was home, but Gendry nodded sympathetically. "We'll figure out how to get your dragon back when Bran awakens." He wrapped his cloak around her and picked her up like a babe. She was so tiny and precious, that it made Gendry's heart pang in sadness. He always thought Jon was wrong to have killed Daenerys, but now he knew. "You need proper clothes and rest. I'll get Sam, the Grand Maester, to look at your legs." Rhaella didn't know what a Grand Maester was.

"Take care of her, both of you," Arya said as she finally found her voice. She put her dagger back in its sheath and looked up at Gendry then Davos. "He deserves to know."

...

"Arya," Sansa called, as Arya darted past the huddling people in the Great Hall to find Jon. She ignored her, and tried to get away, but Sansa followed her. "Arya, what happened out there?"

"It wasn't Drogon," Arya said as she whipped around to face her sister. She didn't have time for this. She needed to tell Jon before everyone else in the castle found out.

"What was it?" Sansa asked. She could see the look of irritation in Arya's eyes.

"Tell everyone, they are safe," Arya said. "For now."

Sansa nodded, but wasn't going to accept her sister's cryptic answers. "What was it, if not a dragon?"

"It was a dragon. Two actually," Arya said thinking of the little girl, Rhaella, Bran had called her. "Reassure everyone that it was nothing. I'm going to tell Jon." Arya could already see the wheels of manipulation rolling in Sansa's head, "And if you do anything stupid, I will not take your side. Not again."

Arya left Sansa to ponder her words as she raced up to Jon's chambers. The guards stepped aside, and she opened the door without bothering to knock.

"Jon," Arya breathed. He was sitting on his bed, staring at the fireplace but stood up when Arya ran to him. She put her head on his shoulder and squeezed him tightly. "I should have taken your side," Arya said, and he almost thought her voice cracked. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"I don't understand," Jon said as Arya pulled away. His hand went to her cheek, and she stared back at him with sad eyes. 

"It's my fault. None of this would have happened if I would have opened my eyes and saw what you did," Arya said. Jon looked at her with confusion. "I thought you were going to choose her over your family, and I told you that she wasn't one of us. But you are a Targaryen and a Stark, and you should have been able to have both."

"Arya, it's not your fault," Jon said as tears slid down his cheeks. Many people were to blame, but Arya was one of the least at fault.

"Maybe if I had befriended her, she wouldn't have felt alone."

"Arya, stop," Jon yelled.

"Maybe you, her, your daughter, and all of the other children you would have had would be in King's Landing right now, happy," Arya said and Jon couldn't bear to look at her in the eyes. "I wish you were happy with her there rather than wallowing in misery here."

"I murdered Dany and the babe," Jon said as a sob tore out of his throat. He suddenly became inconsolable. "I'm the only one to blame."

"What if they were given a second chance?" Arya said as she grabbed both of his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "What if the Lord of Light brought Daenerys back, like he did for you?"

"It's impossible," Jon whispered. He would not dare to think such thoughts.

"You should know that nothing is impossible when it comes to her and us," Arya said. "I know you heard the dragon. Do you think Drogon would have left the castle standing?"

Jon shook his head and turned away from her. It couldn't have been a dragon then. Perhaps it was just the wind.

"If Bran would have told me beforehand that he was going to bring your daughter here tonight by warging her dragon, I wouldn't have believed it either," Arya said. "But he did."

"You're lying," Jon sobbed.

"Her name is Rhaella," Arya said quietly. "She looks like Daenerys, but there is some of you in her as well. You know I wouldn't lie to you, not about this." 

Jon still didn't believe her. He couldn't believe her, not after what he had done.

"I won't make you choose, but you need to know that everything will change. You'll have to face Daenerys in the end," Arya said sharply.

"I already face her every night," Jon whispered as he cried. "I should have stabbed myself, instead of her. I wish she would have killed me before I ever got the chance."

"Good, then you have nothing to lose," Arya smirked as she grabbed his hand, "Trust me and Bran, and don't waste this chance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly believe that D&D didn't let Arya and Daenerys have scenes together because there is no way that they wouldn't be friends. You're telling me that Arya Stark, the biggest Visenya and Rhaenys stan, and the only Northerner who looked at the dragons in awe besides Jon wouldn't have gravitated towards Dany? I don't buy it.
> 
> Even though I'm not sure if my Arya is in character based on season 8, I just can't see her looking at Jon's child and hating her. I would think that seeing Jon miserable to the point of hallucinations and wanting to kill himself, would really make Arya reconsider her stance on Daenerys. I just don't see her looking at Jon's baby girl, who is actually alive, and being anything but protective.


	4. Dragon Princess

"Will you look her over or not?" Gendry said as Sam trembled in the doorway. Sam took a step back and looked as if he was going to dart down the hallway before Gendry grabbed his robes. "She is a child," Gendry whispered angrily. "What would his grace say?"

"I- I, all right, I'll do it," Sam said shaking his head. He smiled sheepishly at Gendry, who had to step aside to allow him to fit through the doorway. He nearly turned back when the little girl stared into his soul.

He sat down on the edge of the bed as far away from her as possible. She looked so much like Daenerys that he had to keep himself from shaking with fright. To ease the tension, he smiled meekly at her, and she returned it with a frown. "Bran was thorough," Sam said, chucking nervously and looked around the room instead. There were several dolls and stuffed toys in the corner, and the room wasn't as drab as most of the other ones. When he looked back at Rhaella, she had the same frown on her face, "Well, I'm going to need you to take your pants off to examine your legs."

She didn't move, and Sam wondered if she could speak the Common Tongue. He pointed to her legs, "Me help you. Pants. Off."

"I know what they are," Rhaella said as she rolled her eyes. Gendry had already explained to her that this Sam was a healer.

"Oh," Sam said. "You can speak the language."

"I want to go home," Rhaella said as she kicked off her pants, leaving her in her gown. If this is what it took to get home, she would subject herself to his examination.

"Bran brought you home," Sam said as he gently felt her leg for any broken bones. He carefully flexed and extended the joints to make sure there weren't any motion problems.

"This isn't my home," Rhaella winced as Sam poked a sore spot on her calf. "I don't even know anyone here."

"You will," Sam said absentmindedly as she tensed up in fear. Realization dawned on her that they weren't planning on letting her leave.

"I want to go home!" Rhaella shouted as she tried to wrestle her leg from Sam's grasp. He panicked and kept hold of her leg while she thrashed around. "Help! I want to go home."

She went completely wild and started clawing and hitting him. "Guards! Guards!" Sam yelled as Davos tried to pull her off. 

"No, stop!" Gendry shouted when two guards pushed him aside and managed to pin her down. Sam, who had been more terrified than anything else, pulled out a vial of milk of the poppy.

"Help!" Rhaella sobbed. "Mother, please help me! I want to go home! Mother! Drogon!"

"His grace will not be pleased," Davos said as Gendry shouted to let her go. Rhaella continued to scream, now in a language no one could understand.

The guards ignored them both and Sam managed to get a a bit of the medicine down her throat before she spit it out the rest of it. Soon she stopped struggling, and her screams turned into quiet sobs. Sam let out a sigh of relief that enough got into her system to subdue her. 

Rhaella looked up at Sam with fury, "Pōntoma zālaza." _Burn them all._ He didn't know what it meant, but her eyes were cold and unfeeling. The guards hesitantly released her, in response to Davos and Gendry's warning looks and left the room. Sam scurried out behind them.

Rhaella's body was so heavy with tiredness and consumed with fear to try to get away from Gendry as he sat on the side of the bed. The other man, Davos, nodded his head before heading out the door.

"I knew your mother," Gendry began. "Not very well, but she took a chance on her enemy's son and raised me up to the Lord of Storm's End. I always admired her."

Rhaella weeped; she missed her mother more than anything. She was so tired, and darkness had already fallen. There had never been a night that she remembered where she wasn't happily nestled in her mother's side.

"I don't know what will happen, but I intend to repay her favor. You'll get to go home." Gendry said as he pulled up the furs over her body and tucked her in. "Goodnight, princess."

"Kirimvose," _Thank you,_ she murmured as he blew out the lamps. She didn't trust him, but he seemed to be more sincere than any of the other people.

"Mother," Rhaella weeped when he left. "Iksan zūgagon," _I'm scared_. She didn't understand why the man in the wheelchair thought this was her home. Her home was with her mother, Greyworm, Kinvara, the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and her dragons. Her home was the warmth and the sun, the house with the red door and the lemon tree, and the open skies when she flew with Daenera. This place had none of those things. Why would he and the fat Maester be so cruel and want to keep her here? 

Her mother would come for her, Rhaella was sure. She would find a way to write a letter if Daenera didn't come back. Holding her hostage would only wake the dragon, and no one should want that. However, her thoughts did nothing to stop the tears that tumbled down her cheeks or the tremors of fear that shook her body. 

She was afraid of the shadows that resembled the shape of people and the creaking sound as the winds whipped against the walls. She was afraid that someone would try to kill her in the night after noticing her silver hair. She had been lucky that whoever these people were seemed to hold no ill will towards her, but that was subject to change.

Rhaella let out a squeak of terror when a white wolf stuck his head through the door and proceeded to come inside. Her body was so tired that she could barely move as the beast came up to the side of the bed. She sobbed as it put its front paws on the edge and leaned in inches from her face. Instead of ripping her throat out, the wolf nuzzled her cheek and licked the tears away.

"Oh," Rhaella breathed as the wolf climbed on the bed and laid his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his soft fur, and it helped calm her racing heart. The wolf almost brought her the same amount of comfort as when the dragons surrounded her.

Rhaella didn't feel so alone anymore and was soon able to fall fast asleep. If she had been awake for a few moments longer, she would have seen the sobbing form of Jon Snow with Arya Stark in her doorway.

...

While Rhaella wasn't usually shy, her entire family had seen her hatch the dragons after all, she had to keep herself from crying out of embarrassment when a servant stripped her down and began washing her in the tub the next morning. The woman was kind and gentle, but it didn't make her feel more comfortable.

The young woman who had been with Gendry and the other man was there, too. She had muttered threats to the servant about keeping quiet and warning her that her brother was unlikely to show mercy. Rhaella tried to ignore her as she played with her ornate dagger and glared at the servant every few seconds.

"Would you like me to braid your hair, my lady?" The servant asked as she helped Rhaella out of the tub and began to dry her off. "I don't know how to do something as intricate as what you had in, but I can do one of the more complicated styles."

Rhaella nodded, and the woman smiled as she helped her into the pale gray gown. It was soft and warm, but heavier and more restrictive than what she was used to. The servant guided Rhaella to the vanity stool when she was finished lacing up the back of the gown.

Arya cracked a smile as she noticed the woman was doing a similar hairstyle to the one Sansa normally wore. She wondered if her sister would even notice with how upset she would be when she found out that everyone else knew about Rhaella except for her.

"You can get his grace," the servant said to Arya as she was finishing up the braid. Arya nodded and quickly left the room to get Jon. Rhaella wondered if "Hizgrace" was the Lord of the castle, for how many times someone mentioned that he wouldn't be happy if they mistreated her. She hoped he was like Gendry and would help her get home. The servant woman patted Rhaella's shoulder when she was finished and curtsied before taking her leave. 

Rhaella looked at the dolls and animals in the corner with disinterest. She never had many toys, since she always had plenty of playmates in her Dothraki tribe. They made up games and were always outside. However, a white stuffed dragon sat on the top of the pile, and it reminded her of Daenera. She tried to blink away tears as she picked up the dragon toy. She hoped that Daenera was somewhere safe and wasn't being controlled anymore. _Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor_ , she thought, _a dragon is not a slave_.

She didn't notice the door open as she thought about her dragon.

Arya waited outside as Jon stepped inside the room, and his breath caught in his throat. She looked like an angel sent down from heaven with her beautiful moon glow hair and pale gown, and he supposed she was. When she turned around and looked at him with her startled amethyst eyes, tears pooled in his own. She had inherited all of Dany's ethereal beauty, but he could see some of Arya in her as well- _the parts of him_

"You look like your mother," Jon choked out as he fell to his knees in front of her. He reached out and cupped her cheek. "You're so beautiful."

His accent was thick, and Rhaella looked at him in confusion. It took her a moment to process what he said as she tried to pull away. For as gentle as his touch was, his fingers were entwined in her hair. No man in her Dothraki tribe would have dared touch her as intimately as he did without reason, for it would be a slight to their Khaleesi.

“Don’t touch me,” Rhaella said as the man looked at her like she was his entire world. 

"I'm sorry," Jon said as he brushed his thumb over her cheek, ignoring her wishes for him to unhand her. "I'm so sorry."

"I want to go home," Rhaella said looking into his watery dark eyes with no emotion. "The man in the chair can bring my dragon back."

"So there are others," Jon pondered as she hesitantly nodded. Bran had said that the bleeding star was an omen of dragons. "And Dany is alive?" Jon held his breath.

Rhaella had never heard anyone refer to her mother by that name before. She didn't acknowledge his question and instead looked away. She would not be the one to betray her mother, "I want to go home."

"You don't like the North?" Jon smiled through his tears. He knew Dany didn't either.

Rhaella didn't like to be anywhere her mother wasn't. The people here were rude and strange, "It's cold," was what she said. 

"Aye, it is for a dragon princess," Jon said. He rubbed her cheek again just to make sure she was real. "We'll keep you warm."

"What do you want?" Rhaella finally asked, unsettled by his ministrations. "Gold? Power? Fire and blood? I want to go home."

Jon never wanted any of those things. In fact, he only wanted to take back what he did. "The only thing I wanted for years was Daenerys... and our child to come back to life."

Rhaella dropped the dragon toy in shock.

_Not Hizgrace- no his grace.. the wolf... the North... Dany... our child_

She could feel her blood start to boil as it rushed through her body. She tore away from his grasp, squeaking in pain when his fingers got caught in her hair. Hurt and betrayal swirled in her heart.

_He rules from the North..._

_He stabbed me_..

_Your father's name is_ -

"You're Aegon Targaryen," Rhaella spat, her voice as sharp as the dagger that killed her mother. Her vision flashed red as fury and pent up rage boiled to the breaking point.

"Jon," he croaked. She looked far more upset and betrayed than when he told Dany about Rhaegar and Lyanna.

"It doesn't matter. Betrayer, Oathbreaker, Queenslayer, Kinslayer. Which one would you prefer," she asked darkly. Dracarys. Dracarys. Dracarys, the word chanted in her head. If Daenera was still with her, the sky would have fallen down upon them. 

"Rhaella, please," Jon said paling. He was still on his knees, which was his rightful place as far as she was concerned. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? You're sorry! Sorry for what? Murdering my mother and taking the crown before her body was cold, or are you sorry that we didn't stay dead?" 

"I've regretted killing Dany, since the moment I did it," Jon sobbed. "I never wanted the crown."

"Do you know how many times I've seen the scar? How many times I've kissed Mummy's boo boo because she was crying about you murdering her?" Rhaella said as tears poured down her cheeks. Daenerys had let Rhaella nurse as long as she was able, and they still regularly took baths together. It was forever ingrained in her brain.

"I'm sorry," he said as his face contorted in agony. She wanted him to hurt.

"Do you know that I sleep with my head on Mother's heart every night because I am so afraid that it will stop beating?" Rhaella cried, admitting one of her greatest fears to her enemy. She didn’t know if she was more hurt or angry with him. "That the Lord of Light will decide that she has served her purpose and will take her away from me."

"I wish I could take it back. I wish that I had killed myself instead," Jon sobbed. He thought of Drogon nudging Dany's body and the fresh image of the little girl snuggling into Dany's breast to make sure she was still alive.

"Would you have done it, if you knew she was pregnant?" Rhaella asked icily as rage overtook her once more.

"I-I don't think so," Jon said. He could never harm a child, but he was sure that Tyrion could have convinced him of the babe's evilness in that moment, as much as it pained him to think about. "I'm sorry. I will try to make it up to you for the rest of my life."

"No, you stole me. You don't get to keep me here in a place I've never known without my family," Rhaella said with fury. She didn’t want to know Aegon Targaryen; she didn’t love Aegon Targaryen. "I want to go home."

He reached for her, and she took a step back. There was desperation in his eyes, but she wouldn't give him any satisfaction. "You'll get to know your kingdom and your family here. You can convince Dany to join us."

“No,” Rhaella was disgusted. She would not convince her mother to come back to the place that destroyed her. "What about my dragons, and my people, and the warmth of the sun? You would take everything I’ve ever loved away from me, just like her?"

"They can come and adapt," Jon pleaded. "Everything can be the way it was supposed to be."

"This is the way it was supposed to be no matter how many times I wish you chose mother- chose us," Rhaella screamed. "You killed her. You killed the best person in the entire world. She needed you, and you murdered her like she was nothing. She was never nothing!"

Jon didn't flinch when she slapped his cheek with a resonating crack and pushed him away. He knew he deserved it, "I know I made mistakes that I will be paying for the rest of my life. I know that nothing will ever make what I did right, but I want to be the father you've never had."

"I have more respectable men in my life that would protect me and kill for me, not kill me, than you could even dream of," Rhaella scoffed. "You're nothing to me. Only my mother and the Lord of Light gave me life."

That hurt Jon worse than any slap ever could.

"This will only end in one of two ways: you can tell that man to bring my dragon back and never look for me or my mother again or you can face whatever wrath comes from your poor decisions." Her eyes were colder than Dany's had ever been, and he had seen that look in Arya's before. _The eyes of a killer_ , yet he couldn’t bring himself to care.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, knowing that he would be able to willingly let his daughter slip out of his life again. "I can't let you go again."

"You should be," Rhaella said darkly as she tried to hold in a sob. "I won't be your salvation, not when I have to be hers."

She had slapped a king and her wrist didn't fall off; she wondered if her head would be so lucky if she killed one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment what your thoughts on Rhaella meeting Jon for the first time are. Also, is there anything you would like to see going forward? Any specific interactions between Rhaella and the Northern characters/allies? Daenerys' thoughts are coming up!
> 
> Also, Daenerys and Rhaella are very clingy towards each other. Yes, Rhaella still sleeps and takes baths with her mother, but she wasn't a Robin Arryn (just had to clarify).


	5. Rise of the Dragon Queen

Daenerys watched the flames dance in the fireplace, with glassy eyes. She had wept and screamed until her voice went hoarse when the dragon came back without Rhaella. Drogon had roared and snapped at the white dragon for failing her rider, but there was something wrong with her. Every time the dragon would try to take flight, an invisible force made her turn around. Something seemed to be wrong with her eyes, since they would go from molten silver irises to milky white.

Now her tears refused to fall, despite the agonizing pain in her heart. Her sweet child was all alone, possibly hurt or worse. Daenerys wanted Rhaella back in her arms, and safe in her bed at night. For the first time since her daughter was born, she had a nightmare about Jon murdering her, only this time he plunged his knife into Rhaella, too.

A group of Unsullied had left to patrol Braavos, and some of the Dothraki made their way to Pentos to look for their missing princess. Still, Daenerys was not satisfied. Rhaella could be anywhere in the world. Greyworm stayed faithfully by her side the whole time, whispering words of hope and reassurance that Rhaella would be found. His words did nothing to quell her fears, not when everyone was an enemy, but she would have already fallen to madness if he wasn't there. He was the only lifeline that kept her from plunging into the depths of insanity.

"Perhaps I will be able to find our little princess in the flames, my Queen," Kinvara said as she seemingly materialized out of the shadows. The Red Priestess' presence was always comforting to her. Greyworm squeezed Daenerys' shoulder as she beckoned the woman to move closer to the fire.

"She is far away, my Queen," Kinvara said. "The man who is all knowing warged her dragon to force your hand. I see a land of ice now kissed with fire and a grief stricken king clinging to his once dead daughter. They all know the Dragon Queen and her child lives."

"No, no," Daenerys started trembling. Her worst fear in the world was coming true. "He has Rhaella, my baby. Jon Snow has my baby," She looked up at Greyworm frantically as the madness she had tried so hard to keep at bay, was bubbling in her mind. She felt as if she was in Dragonstone again after Missandei was beheaded and Varys was trying to poison her. Let it be fear, she said then, and she only had fear now. The North would destroy her beautiful child, just as it lead to her demise.

"We will kill Jon Snow this time," Greyworm said as he grabbed her hand. There was a rekindled fire in his eyes that had been dormant for so many years. "We will get little princess back for Daenerys Targaryen, and take the Seven Kingdoms."

"I can't put my people on the front lines again," She said with wide eyes. She couldn't keep losing the people she loved to Jon Snow. Daenerys didn't want to fight, not after what it cost her; she just wanted Rhaella back. "How will I even come up with an army?"

"Soon the world will know the Dragon Queen lives, why not show them their Mhysa has come home?" Kinvara said as she stared into the flames. "Daario still holds Meereen in your memory. The Second Sons will join your cause."

"Meereen?" Daenerys pondered. She had finally found her home in Braavos, yet she found herself drawn to the possibility of being loved once more by her subjects. She hadn't truly been a queen in over a decade.

"The dragons can burn the North," Greyworm said. "But we will follow you to Meereen if that is what our Queen wishes."

Daenerys feared that Rhaella's young dragons would die, especially if Bran warged them. None of them would have riders with Rhaella gone, and Missandys and Jorion were too small for an adult to ride anyway. Meereen was her only hope, yet she didn't know if she was ready to be the Dragon Queen again and face the world.

Tears pooled in her eyes and a sob tore through her throat as a battle waged in her mind. Fire and blood fought honor and negotiation, and she didn't want to choose either side. All she wanted was her baby, safe in her arms and away from Jon Snow and his traitorous allies. She never wanted to see them again.

"My Queen," Kinvara crooned, taking hold of one of Daenerys' hands. "Perhaps we should give him a warning of what will happen if he doesn't return what is rightfully yours. A child should never be separated from its mother. Should he refuse, his kingdom will know who to blame when Daenerys Targaryen comes back to Westeros."

Daenerys stared at the flames for a moment before nodding at Kinvara's suggestion. However, she doubted Jon would be willing to hand Rhaella over with no ulterior motives. Her eyes were filled with tears and darkness as she turned quickly to her Master of War, making her decision, "Greyworm, tell everyone to prepare. If Jon Snow refuses to give me my daughter back unharmed, we will be going to Meereen. Tell them that Daenerys Targaryen is back."

...

The whole council room went to chaos when Bran revealed that Daenerys Targaryen and the child were alive. Jon and Arya were bringing the girl down to meet them as he spoke.

All of the commotion died when Arya came through the door with look of warning flashing in her eyes. She looked from Davos to Gendry as she took the seat next to him, "Poorly," Arya whispered in response to his probing look of curiosity of how the meeting went. Gendry looked down at the table and Davos sighed.

Sansa seethed at the thought of Arya, Gendry, and Davos being privy to this new information before she was. Even Sam looked like he wasn't too surprised. Right as she was going to accuse them of purposely keeping this away from her, Jon walked in holding the hand of a little silver haired girl wearing Bran's chosen gown that he had commissioned from her. Her hands clenched into fists upon seeing the Dragon Bitch's spawn.

Rhaella's hand hung limply in Jon's, as she tried to keep her chin up high. She didn't want to meet his council or be anywhere near him, but the young woman had twirled her dagger and said it was in her best interest to do what her brother wanted. Jon had introduced her as Arya Stark, her aunt. Perhaps in a different life, she would have been her hero; she defeated the Night King and was a brilliant fighter. Rhaella felt nothing akin to admiration for the woman as she waved her blade around.

It was evident that the princess had been crying, and she tried to hide her fear behind a mask of indifference. Jon looked down at Rhaella with pure adoration and put his hands on her shoulders. "My daughter, Rhaella, has come home." Her back stiffened as he kissed the top of her head. She wished he would get his hands off of her. She wanted her mother.

The council regarded the display with apprehension or with tiny smiles in Gendry and Podrick's cases. Brienne and Bran were the only ones who seemed to have a blank expression on their face, and Yara Greyjoy and the Prince of Dorne looked a bit too smug for everyone's liking.

"This is my Hand, Lord Davos," Jon said pointing to the man at the head of the table at the opposite end. Rhaella recognized him from the night before, and he was in the room when she was bathing. He had been respectful and hadn't watched. He also looked suspiciously like the man who had seen her at Dragonstone.

"Your grace, it's a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for not introducing myself last night or this morning," Davos said thinking of the screaming and flailing child. He feared that kidnapping her was going to lead to madness, whether it was hers or Jon's he couldn't say, "I hope to serve you justly."

Rhaella had never heard of him, which hopefully meant that he wasn't a complete traitor. She nodded, not knowing what to say. 

Jon introduced the Grand Maester, Samwell Tarly, next, who looked as if he was going to shit his robes. Her mother said that he set the events in motion by telling Jon who his parents were, which earned him a spot on her list. If she wasn't so afraid herself, she would have laughed at his trembling. It was a wonder how the King in the North had ever befriended such a coward. "Hello," he squeaked. Rhaella looked him up and down, and he shrank beneath her gaze. 

"Lord Bronn, the Master of Coin," Jon supplied as the man began laughing at Sam's reaction to the child. He didn't think Bronn was a qualified choice, but Tyrion insisted, and they didn't have any other options. Jon knew the realm was almost in debt, but he decided to let the council deal with it. "And across is Ser Brienne, Master of War." 

"Your grace," Brienne said uncomfortably as Rhaella stared at her in confusion. She had thought Brienne was a man.

The next person down the line was a woman with hair the color of dragon fire. Out of everyone in the room, she had the least gruff appearance. Besides her mother, Rhaella thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. "You have pretty hair," Rhaella said with a kind smile. "I've never seen anyone with red hair before."

Sansa smirked for a second and turned her nose up in disdain. Rhaella's smile fell and turned into rage when Jon said, "This is my sister, Sansa Stark, your aunt." Jon hoped that Sansa changed her views on Rhaella now that she was real and alive.

Sansa's nasty inner self could never compare to her outside beauty. Rhaella knew she had to be wary of her; anyone who broke a promise made in front of the great Weirwood tree was not to be trusted. 

"You were named after your grandmother, the Mad Queen's wife," Sansa said frowning at her.

"Yes," Rhaella said quietly after Jon seemed to be waiting for her to give a response, even though it was more of a statement than a question.

Sansa smirked, "Isn't it funny that you and Jon have the same grandmother?"

Bronn spit out his wine all over the table and bellowed in laughter. Sam chuckled nervously, as everyone else tried to look away from Jon's irritated expression.

"You outdid yourself, Lady Stark," Rhaella said sweetly, with fire in her eyes. Jon smirked at her response, not feeling comfortable enough to address the situation. "Thank you for the beautiful gown." Arya and Gendry smiled in amusement. Sansa fumed with hatred as Jon announced Lord Tyrion as Master of Laws.

Tyrion waved his hand as he took a swig of wine. Rhaella regarded him with pure hatred that she didn't bother to hide. He betrayed her mother more times than anyone else, and she wished he wasn't given another chance. She was going to comment on his traitorous ways, until she caught the eye of the man in the wheelchair, Bran, the Master of Whisperers.

"What did you do to my dragon? Where is she?" Rhaella asked raising her voice. Jon pulled her closer to him and ran his fingers through her hair, a gesture he thought would help calm her down, but it only further upset her.

"With the others," Bran said. "She will come back again."

"I don't want you controlling her," Rhaella said. A dragon is not a slave. 

"That can be arranged," Bran said to appease her. He had other ways of keeping the dragon tame without having to warg. Rhaella wasn't happy, but she supposed it was something.

"You've already met Gendry and my sister, Arya," Jon said looking at the pair of them. Gendry smiled and Rhaella tentatively returned it. Jon was relieved as he turned towards their guests. "And this is Yara Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Islands, and Quentyn Martell, Prince of Dorne."

"Valar morghulis," Yara said beckoning her to come closer. Arya narrowed her eyes upon hearing the familiar High Valyrian saying. "Māzigon kesīr. Se krubo kostagon ȳdragon mirri Valyrīha." _Come here. The dwarf can speak some Valyrian._

"Valar dohaeris," Rhaella said as took in a breath of surprise. She pulled away from Jon and went to the woman. Her mother had always spoken highly of Yara Greyjoy, and she was pleased to finally meet her.

"Se Āegenka Tēgembōña issi lēda ao, dārilaros. Kesi va moriot ivīlībagon se Dāria Zaldrīzoti," _The Iron islands are with you, princess. We will always fight for the Dragon Queen._ Yara began learning High Valyrian because she wanted to know what Daenerys was saying to her people, and the Queen was very alluring when she shouted commands. When Daenerys died she continued learning the language; it was the only thing she had to remember her Queen, and it kept her memory alive. "Sīr iksis Dorno," _So is Dorne._ Quentyn Martell nodded in response to Yara kicking his shin.

"Kostilus dohaeragon nyke. Jaelan naejot jikagon lenton," _Please help me. I want to go home,_ Rhaella said frantically as Sansa made a comment about how they couldn't trust people who conveniently spoke another language to plot something.

"All right that's enough for today," Jon said. He grabbed Rhaella's wrist and gently pulled to coax her away.

"I will," Yara said as the poor girl squeezed her arm. She could see the terror and hope in Rhaella's eyes, and it made her enraged that the Starks were holding the child hostage.

Rhaella finally gave up and let Jon lead her away. She didn't want to be in the presence of traitors anyway. She hated Bran Stark, Samwell Tarly, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Tyrion Lannister, and Aegon Targaryen most of all.

"Daenerys is thinking of going to war," Bran said after Jon guided Rhaella out of the room.

"Another Dance of Dragons," Tyrion said as he spun his wine glass around in his hands. He took a swig of the crimson liquid, and slammed it on the table. "Except this time she has all of them, and we're fucked."

"We can return the child to Daenerys," Davos said looking at Gendry. "I'll do it myself."

"Do you really think that sorry fucker is going to let you? He doesn't know the little bitch, and he is already whipped," Bronn chuckled and Tyrion put his hands on his face.

"Careful, Lord Bronn, you are talking about your King," Sansa said with her fists clenched. She wasn't happy that Jon was now so infatuated with his little princess, that he couldn't see that she was no better than Mad Daenerys. "I'll talk to him."

"I'm his Hand," Davos said. "Everyone who claims to love him knows that his head has been filled with demons. My apologies, Lady Sansa, but if you or anyone else talks poorly about the child, I don't think he will agree with you. If anyone can make him see reason, it's me."

"This goes beyond reason," Tyrion said. "His child is living and breathing. Daenerys rose from the grave."

"Then we go to war," Sansa said. "What does it matter if she has dragons when we have her daughter? Someone could kill the child before Daenerys has time to burn the castle down.

"And then what?" Gendry said. "Do you think she will fly home if Rhaella is killed?" Sansa glared at him, but he didn't back down. "We can't even guarantee that she won't burn down Westeros once she gets her daughter back."

"My people still want vengeance for our Queen's death. If the time comes to take sides, the Iron Islands will choose the rightful ruler," Yara Greyjoy said as she stood up. Prince Quentyn Martell raised his glass and followed behind Yara as she made her way to the door. Before they left, Yara turned around and smiled at Sansa, "You were right, Lady Stark, I am plotting."

Their departure caused an unsettling silence as everyone stared grimly at one another. Their relationship with the Iron Islands and Dorne had always been precarious, now it was clear that they would not give any assistance should Daenerys show up at their gates.

Even though Sansa didn't care for the child at all, her hatred of Daenerys outshone her desire for Rhaella to leave. Jon clearly didn't want the girl to leave anyways. "Jon shouldn't have to give the girl up if he doesn't want to. He is the King, her father, and male; Daenerys is nothing. The child rightfully belongs to him."

"Do you even believe that?" Gendry asked incredulously, knowing Sansa was trying to play all sides of the game. Bran said that Daenerys hadn't made up her mind yet, so there was still time to fix everything. 

Arya wasn't going to comment because she wanted Jon to be happy, but she didn't agree with what Sansa said. She knew Sansa would go to war if her child had been stolen away. Perhaps this was her fault for telling Jon not to waste his second chance.

"Are you siding with Daenerys?" Sansa asked angrily.

"I'm siding with the little girl who wants to go home," he responded. It was cruel of Bran to steal her and cruel of Jon to force her to stay. "I don't support ripping babes away from their mothers, and you're making it seem like Daenerys is coming for us right now. We can make things right."

"It doesn't matter what any of us believes in," Brienne said, efficiently ending their quarrels. She had been silent until this point, but they needed to start thinking realistically. "Gendry is right. We have to come to a compromise before things get out of hand. What men will be willing to fight the Dragon Queen for a Princess that they hold no love for? The North had a hard enough time banding together to defeat the dead, and I doubt the Southerners will be keen to fight in a war that ends with inevitable slaughter."

"Convincing Jon to let the child go is the only way, and if he won't, we will have to smuggle her away," Davos said. He didn't know if it was right or how badly it would affect Jon's sanity, but it was for the good of the realm.

"He's already made up his mind that he is keeping Rhaella," Bran Stark said. "He wants Daenerys to come."

"Just as I said," Tyrion said, downing the rest of his wine. "We're fucked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of Daenerys' intentions and Rhaella meeting the council, which was stupid on Jon's part considering most of the people in the room are against Dany.
> 
> I wanted Rhaella's first impression of Sansa to be hopeful, considering she is a woman that she can compare to her mother. Out of everyone in the room, she would be the best candidate for a child to go to for help. Too bad she is Sansa...
> 
> I also know a lot of you want some huge blow up scene between Rhaella and Sansa, and I have a few ideas, but nothing super crazy. If you want to see them fight about something in particular please drop your ideas in the comments!


	6. The Dragon's Pain

After being subjected to Aegon Targaryen and his treacherous friends and family all day, he finally brought her back to her chambers where the servants were already waiting for her to get ready for bed.

She would have told them to leave if she wasn't strapped into the dress she was wearing. There was no way that she would be able to undo the laces by herself without ruining it. Even though she would take pride in destroying Sansa's work, she did think it was beautiful and didn't know if there was anything else for her to wear.

They put her in a pale blue nightgown lined with fleece and gently took out the braids in her hair, letting them fall down in loose ringlet curls. Mother said that she had beautiful hair, but now she disliked that it curled like Aegon's and didn't fall into soft waves like Daenerys'.

"Don't cry, Princess," one of the servants said soothingly as tears dripped down her cheeks. Not one of them offered to stay as they guided her to the bed and pulled up the furs around her. Terror gripped her heart as they blew out the candles and left. She was left to endure the dancing shadows created from the flickering fireplace alone. 

Rhaella didn't want to spend another night away from her mother. She didn't want to spend another day with _him._ So she wouldn't. She waited until the wolf who had decided to come in again to comfort her was fast asleep on the floor at the foot of her bed before quietly slipping out the door. 

Jon had showed her where his chambers were located a few doors down from hers. He told her that if she ever needed anything during the night, the guards knew that she was allowed to wake him up. The door was the only one that had guards stationed in front of it. If she had forgotten, she would have quickly figured out which one was his.

It was almost too easy to slip inside his chambers. The guards had been asleep, and she was met with no resistance. It was smaller than what she expected and held no kingly splendor. The walls and floor were bare, whereas hers had tapestries and rugs covering them to prevent the chill in her toes. It seemed cluttered despite the few things there.

She didn't know that in this very room, it was the beginning of the end for her and her mother, but tears fell down her cheeks anyway as if her soul had known.

The roaring flames in the fireplace soothed her fears as the light glinted off the dagger she held up. She was surprised when it wasn't immediately confiscated, but no one seemed to notice in all the commotion. For a moment, she felt warm as she basked in the heat, but the coldness returned when she looked over at Aegon Targaryen's sleeping form.

Rhaella wiped her cheeks, but more tears took their place as went to his bedside and stared at him- at her father. He had a small smile gracing his lips, and she wondered if he was dreaming. She looked away from his face, and her eyes fell to his bare chest and the scars that adorned him. There were so many. She put her hand to her mouth and held in a sob when she found the matching scar her mother had amongst the rest of them. How could he do that to her when he knew what it was like to be stabbed in the heart by the people he loved?

 _I could have loved you,_ Rhaella thought sadly as she carefully climbed onto his bed, _I would have loved you in my other life, but you took it from me._ Worst of all, he had taken her mother's life, and for that, he would pay. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold in her sadness and rage.

The scar was her target as she positioned the dagger above his heart. _Forgive me, Mother._ she thought as she drove the dagger downwards.

Jon's eyes shot open in panic, and he managed to grab her wrist as the tip of the dagger nicked his scar. 

"No," Rhaella cried, trying to stab him as he tried to pry the dagger out of her hand. The Starks would have her head for this, and she didn't even kill Aegon Targaryen.

"Stop," Jon said as she held onto the dagger with an iron grip. She didn't listen and continued to try to wriggle it out of his grasp, until he managed to get ahold of the end and ripped it out of her hands. The dagger clattered to the floor, and Rhaella scrambled off the bed to retrieve it. Jon yanked the back of her nightgown and pulled her towards him before she could grab it.

"I hate you!" Rhaella screamed as he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her arms down with the other. She kicked her legs and struggled. It took all of her willpower to continue to use the Common Tongue, so he would know what she was saying. "I hate you! You killed Mother! I want to go home!"

"Please don't be like me," Jon sobbed as he rocked her. "You're good." She screamed and flailed against him. "You're good like Dany, not like me, please."

"I hate you!" She convulsed with sobs in his arms and struggled to get free. She wanted to go home, and now she never would be able to. "You killed us." 

"Shhh, you're good like Dany. Not me. I'm sorry," Jon whispered as she screamed. He deserved to die, but he didn't want her, his beautiful sweet child, to inherit his titles of Kinslayer and Kingslayer. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You're good. Not like me," Jon continued to murmur as she screamed, cried, and kicked. He held her until she trembled with quiet sobs, too exhausted to fight him any longer. After whispering, "I hate you," one last time, Rhaella eventually fell asleep in his arms. 

Jon shifted her so he was cradling her like a babe. He gently rocked her back and forth, staring at her face. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. He hoped she would forgive him eventually, but for now her being in Winterfell was enough. Holding her while she slept was better than anything he could have wished for, even if she despised him when she was awake.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. It was almost as if the Targaryens had stolen part of the moon and wove it into their scalps. On good nights, he would have dreams of running his fingers through Daenerys' hair; he had longed to see Targaryen silver every waking moment.

He never thought that a child so beautiful and fierce would have been created from his seed. Perhaps she was right, and Daenerys was the only one who gave her life, since the dragon clearly overshadowed the wolf.

After kissing her again, Jon carefully stood up and carried her to her bedchamber, after startling his guards. He wanted to know why they didn't come in when they heard Rhaella screaming, but he would deal with them in the morning. Ghost woke up as he heard Jon come into the room. His ears perked up, and he went over to Jon's side as he carefully lowered her into bed. Both of them stared at her for a moment as if she was the only thing that mattered. 

Jon scratched behind Ghost's good ear, and the wolf turned to face him, "Stay," Jon whispered. "Protect her, now and always."

Ghost returned to the spot on the floor where he had been sleeping as Jon left the room. He would never leave his master's little pup.

...

Rhaella thought she would awake in a dungeon or in chains, but nothing had been done about her attempted murder. Two days went by, and the only thing that had changed was tightened security. Jon had guards posted at her door, and it seemed like no matter how hard she tried to get away, someone was always accompanying her. Rhaella knew she was being watched.

Rhaella didn't know why, but in the afternoon, she was subjected to watch the young boys practice in the tilt yard with Jon. She couldn't meet his eyes after what she had tried to do, even though he looked at her as lovingly as before. Instead, her eyes would linger on the Freefolk children wrestling and playing with longing eyes. They reminded her of her Dothraki playmates, and it made her more homesick than she already was.

Davos tried to tell her jokes to make her smile, even though she mostly stared at him in confusion. He would often have to explain them because she hadn't grown up around Westerosi culture. She reminded him of Shireen in a way. There were moments when she would let go of her resentment and fear, and she was just a sweet little girl with sad eyes. Davos had a habit of taking in lost and broken children, and she was no different. He had failed Jon and Daenerys, and he wouldn't make the same mistake with their daughter; he would make things right, even if Jon didn't want to listen and began to avoid him.

"I've brought you what you asked for, your grace," Davos said handing her a box wrapped in brown parchment. "Lady Karstark sent this early as part of your coronation present. She worked all day and night."

The coronation left a bitter taste in her mouth as she opened the box, trying to hide her smile. She wanted something similar to what Arya Stark wore, so she could play outside without being confined in a gown.

"Oh," Rhaella gasped as she held up the dark red leather gambeson, patterned to look like dragon scales. It came with a black fur cloak, fleece lined pants, and boots. It was better than anything she could have imagined. 

"I may have asked her to add the Targaryen touches," Davos said thinking of her wearing Daenerys' gown at Dragonstone. 

"Thank you," Rhaella said, and Davos thought it was progress, even though she withdrew from his gaze. She preferred when he or Gendry was watching her, but she still didn't trust him.

He escorted her to the tilt yard, once the servants came in and helped her dress. Instead of following him, around the balcony where Samwell Tarly reluctantly conversed with a burly red haired Wilding and Sansa Stark stood, she ran down the stairs instead. 

As Rhaella walked by, all eyes turned to stare at her. The sound of practice swords clanging grew faint as the boys became intrigued with what the mysterious princess was doing. She looked as if she was going into battle. Even Arya Stark, who practiced throwing knives in the corner, took notice.

"What are you playing?" Rhaella asked as she walked up to the group of Wildling children who were hitting each other with sticks. They were the only ones who didn't take notice of her.

"Great War," a boy said throwing her his extra stick. He tackled the other boy to the ground and grinned at her. "You're on the side of the living. He's the Night King," the boy pointed to a dark haired boy. "He will raise the dead soon." Motioning to the kids lying on the ground waiting for the boy to give the signal.

The first Wildling boy who came after her was slightly surprised that she was as wild as they were. There were plenty of girls playing, but Southern girls were different than Wildling girls. She managed to tackle him to the ground after his stick broke and smiled. 

She beat every boy and girl who attacked her, and helped the boy who had given her the stick fend off a much taller girl. He grinned and clapped her on the back when they both brought her down.

Everyone groaned when the Night King boy managed to kill his most recent challenger. "Get him," the boy said as Rhaella contemplated going for him in the opening that was presented. "You just have to beat him in a sword fight."

He began to raise his arms as Rhaella charged after him, but dropped them quickly to pick up his stick. At least she had bought her team time, if nothing else. "You'll lose, Dragon Queen," the boy taunted as she raised her stick to strike.

"We'll see," she said as their sticks banged each other. He was good at fighting, and it was a different style than what she was used to. His strikes were hard and chaotic, whereas she was quick and controlled. Greyworm said that you could beat anyone if you were quick and used your head. She matched each of his blows and circled around him like they were dancing. 

It carried on for several minutes, until she found her opening and brought her stick up to his neck. The boy's jaw dropped as he dramatically sunk to his knees as everyone hollered and cheered.

"All hail the Dragon Queen!" The boy shouted as everyone rushed around her. Someone picked her up and hoisted her onto his shoulders. "Dragon Queen! Dragon Queen!" She smiled brightly as they chanted. Rhaella didn't notice that everyone continued to watch her as she played with the Wildling children with gaping mouths. She was always the oddball in the group, but that's where she felt most at home. 

Arya Stark had watched out of curiosity more than anything else. While her footwork and posture was a bit off, Rhaella had potential. She wondered what the girl could do with a real sword. Her style of fighting was clearly Essosi. Perhaps she would offer to teach the child the correct way to make Jon happy.

Up on the balcony, Tormund slapped Jon on the back as he joined them. "Looks like your small pecker came to some use," Tormund bellowed, smiling down at Rhaella. "With your face, she's blessed to take after the Dragon Queen."

Jon chuckled, and looked down fondly at his daughter. This was the first time he had seen her truly look happy. She had Dany's smile.

"She must take after you somewhat. Your little dragonpup is part of the Freefolk now," Tormund said with pride. "You best keep an eye on her, Little Crow. In a few years one of them will try to steal her."

Sansa rolled her eyes. She thought it was unbecoming of a princess to act like a savage. Judging from the company Daenerys kept, she was probably raised among them like an animal. Even Arya didn't play so roughly when she was a child.

"She reminds me of Lyanna," A friend of Sam's from the Citadel said walking closer to Jon. He had been a Northman before going to get his Maester's chains.

Lyanna Mormont may have irritated Sansa on many occasions, but she was a loyal Northerner. Rhaella was nothing like her, "Lyanna Mormont was-"

"Not Lyanna Mormont," The man said cutting her off. Sansa's eyes narrowed. "Lyanna Stark," he looked at Jon. "Your mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really excited and nervous to post this chapter. I really want to know what you all think, especially the first half. I wanted to go a bit lighter in the second half.
> 
> I hope I did Rhaella's conflicting emotions justice, even though trying to avenge Dany weighed out in the end.
> 
> Also, I just realized this, but in true Game of Thrones fashion, Rhaella tried to kill Jon on Father's Day haha.


	7. For the Dragon Heir

"This came tied to one of the dragon's spikes," Bran said handing the letter to Jon. It bore the Targaryen seal, and Jon felt a wave of hope pass over him.

_Lord Snow,_  
_It seems as if you have stolen something very precious to me, and I want it returned. Send me my daughter and the dragon back unharmed, and I will show mercy. Failure to do so is an act of war. I trust that you will make the honorable decision._  
_\- Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons_  
_(You have until sunrise tomorrow.)_

"The dragon is waiting by the Weirwood tree," Bran said as Jon's eyes lingered on Dany's elegant script. "You need to make a choice, I can't make it stay there for long."

"She smiled, Bran, really truly smiled. The Wildlings and some of the Northerners already have accepted her. We only need a few more weeks. Dany will see how happy she is, and somehow we will find a way to work things out," Jon rationalized, even though he knew that if Rhaella didn't warm up to him, it wouldn't matter whether she liked the North or not.

"Perhaps," Bran said. "Perhaps not." Bran's eyes rolled back into his head, ending his input on the matter.

"Your grace, the council has agreed that it is in everyone's best interest to return the child to Daenerys," Davos said. "Immediately."

"The best interest for who? It was Tyrion who suggested this wasn't it?" Jon said angrily. 

"It's for the good of the realm and Rhaella. Tyrion stayed out of it mostly," Davos said clasping his hands together. He saw something dark flicker in Jon's eyes, and knew that there would be no reasoning with him. Still, he had to try.

"Tyrion told me that killing Dany was for the good of the realm, and that I should put duty over love. Ask me in ten years, he said, if what I did was right. I should have fucking killed him. I should have said fuck the realm, fuck duty and honor. Dany was the only good thing in this shit world, and I killed her for the 'good of the realm'." Jon spat as Davos looked at him with sympathy. "I will not choose the realm over my daughter and Dany ever again."

"Jon, Daenerys isn't coming to compromise with you. She won't be coming to accept your apologies and play family. She is coming with an army and dragons to bring us fire and blood," Davos said. "We can't handle a normal war, let alone a war against dragons."

"If you're right, we all deserve to burn anyway," Jon muttered darkly. "This is my second chance to choose her. I have to try."

Davos sighed, knowing that many people in the North were responsible for Jon and Daenerys' downfalls. He wished he would have gone straight to Daenerys about a marriage alliance with Jon. He should have fought harder for the two of them, but since he couldn't change the past, he could try to change the future.

"Then don't think about the realm, think about your daughter. You know Rhaella cries for Daenerys throughout the night. She barely eats, Jon, and I'm worried. How can you not see that she is afraid? I wonder if she thinks the food is poisoned," Davos said sadly. Sometimes he wanted to scoop her in his arms and reassure her that everything would be okay, but he saw her flinch every time she was touched by an adult without permission or her initiating it. "I know you love her and want to make things right with Daenerys, but this isn't the way."

"I know what it means now. For the first time, I feel like the sun finally rose in my eternal darkness," Jon said, thinking of Uncle Benjen and Maester Aemon's words about fathering a child. "I love Rhaella more than anything else in the world. I lost eleven years of her being in my life, and I can't miss another moment. She is home. Westeros is her birthright."

"Holding onto her won't make her love you back," Davos said. "You have to do what is best for your child, even if that means letting her go. You can't keep her away from Daenerys, it isn't right."

"I don't want to keep her from Dany. Rhaella will only be away from her, until she comes to Westeros. Until then, I want to be her father."

"Then be her bloody father, and do the right thing. This isn't about the realm, it's about that little girl who wants to go home," Davos shouted, knowing his pleas would make no difference. Jon was too far gone to change his mind, but it would be better if he came to the decision to let Rhaella go, rather than Daenerys taking her and burning everything down. "At the very least try to make her feel comfortable as we wait for Daenerys to strike. Get to know her, and maybe you'll finally see.." Only then, it would be possible for Jon to come to his senses.

...

"You look beautiful," Jon said as he stepped into Rhaella's chambers. She was wearing a crimson gown that darkened to black midway on her skirts; it was adorned with black lace and silver thread that shimmered in the light. Half of her hair was elegantly braided, while the rest fell into loose ringlet curls. Jon smiled fondly, remembering Dany wearing the dragon pins in her braids. 

Rhaella continued to stare catatonically at herself in the mirror, trying to ignore him. She only looked up when he made his way towards her, carrying a small wooden box and a scroll.

"I was going to wait until the feast, but I wanted this to be between the two of us," Jon said.

"Should I be worried that there is a dagger in that box?" Rhaella asked and Jon's smile faltered. "I would like mine back."

"No matter what you do, I will never harm you," Jon said thinking of her attempt on his life. "Not again. I won't stop you the next time."

Rhaella didn't believe that. Even though she hated him, he was right. She wanted him dead, but she didn't want to be like him. All she wanted was to go home.

"I promised myself that I wouldn't father a bastard," Jon said as he unrolled the scroll. Had he known about Dany's pregnancy, he would have married her in a heartbeat. He would have accepted her offer to build her new world together; he still should have.

Rhaella stared at him in confusion. She hadn't heard of the term bastard, and it seemed like father was used incorrectly. "I don't know what that means."

"Now you'll never have to," Jon whispered as he set the legitimization document aside and opened the box. He carefully grabbed the delicate silver tiara, and held it above her head. "I Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name, hereby proclaim you Rhaella of the House Targaryen, first of her name, Princess of Dragonstone, and rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms."

Rhaella stood frozen and watched in the mirror as he placed the tiara gently on her head. A large ruby was inlaid on the center spike framed by dragon wings that formed the band, and black diamonds glittered sporadically on the silver spires. She looked like a princess, and Aegon Targaryen looked like a king in his new gambeson, as he proudly stood behind her.

Rhaella swallowed a lump in her throat as she stared at herself in the mirror. A vision of her mother wearing one of her dragon gowns, and a dark haired brother and baby sister made tears swim in her eyes. She would have done anything to have that. She would have agreed to be her brother's queen and have his babies, if it meant that Aegon chose them. She wondered what he would think of that.

"Are you pleased?" Jon said as he put a hand on her shoulder. He hoped the tears in her eyes were out of happiness.

Rhaella blinked the tears away and put on a mask of coldness. The vision of her mother and siblings that were never meant to be disappeared, and she was left with the harsh reality of her life, "The baby who died would have been, but that's not me."

"I'm sorry," Jon said as she shrugged his hand off and turned away. "I know it doesn't change what I did, but you were born to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

"I don't want to be the Queen. I want to go home," Rhaella murmured. She had the same look of vulnerability that Dany had on when he stabbed her, and he swallowed painfully at the memory.

"You'll see Dany again, I promise," Jon said as he grabbed her wrist. 

"Promises don't mean much here," Rhaella said bitterly. If the Dothraki were merciful, they would have only cut off his hand for the transgression. She didn't understand why he never got the message as he lead her towards the Great Hall.

"The Dothraki believe that a man who touches a Khalakki without permission or in an emergency shames the Khal or Khaleesi and must face their wrath. An outsider would be put to death," Rhaella said. 

While Daenerys had reigned them all in, the Dothraki still had a barbaric reputation. It seemed like the wife and daughters of the Khal were the only females awarded protection, until he decided otherwise. Jon still wasn't fond of the thought of her being around them, "You're not Dothraki."

There was a flash of hurt in Rhaella's eyes. No one, not even anyone in the tribe, had ever said that she didn't belong. The Dothraki had helped birth and raise her, which was more than Aegon Targaryen could say. They treated her with respect and kindness, like she was no different from anyone else. If anything, she wasn't Westerosi; she was born in Braavos and was more foreign than Daenerys had ever been. "I am," Rhaella said looking at his hand on hers and then straight into his eyes. "And you're no Khal."

He let her wrist go, knowing he overstepped.

She didn't speak to him the entire way to the Great Hall, despite him trying to make small talk. Everything got worse as they joined the some of the small council, Sansa, Arya, and Gendry before walking in to take their seats at the high table. When Rhaella saw the amount of people crammed into the lower tables, she shrank behind Jon in fear. 

"It's okay," he whispered soothingly. He was content with being the lesser of two evils as she used him as a shield. "They'll see you for what you are." Jon pulled out the seat next to his at the middle of the table, and motioned for her to sit down.

_The shadow of Daenerys Targaryen. Blood of the Dragon. Foreign Princess. A savage..._

Rhaella hoped they did because she barely recognized herself. There was no place for her to thrive without happiness, love, and sunshine. She wondered if that's how dragons went mad.

"I will not let your inbred bastard take my place," Sansa said defiantly to Jon as she put her hand on the chair. Rhaella didn't know what she was talking about, but given the looks of pure shock on Gendry and Davos' faces, disbelief on Arya's, Tyrion choking on the wine he already started to chug, and the murderous rage on Aegon's, she knew Sansa said something bad.

Sansa's words hit Jon in the gut, and he tried to control his rage. He kept his voice low as he pulled Sansa closer to the wall, "She is my trueborn daughter, your neice, and my heir. Go sit by Arya or leave."

"You would throw your own sister out for a brat you don't know? You would give the Crown and the North to Daenerys' spawn, knowing that she is coming to burn us all?" Sansa spat.

"And you think I should give it to you, after this? Children are not their mothers and fathers." Jon seethed, thinking Arya would make a better queen than she ever would. He didn't understand how Sansa could have such hatred for his child when she was a part of Rhaella, too. "Northern blood runs in her veins, my blood runs in her veins. I don't expect you take on a motherly role, but you will be kind."

"I don't know how I will ever look past the fact that you made a child with your aunt," Sansa said. "And that you are probably cheering for us all to burn because you want to fuck her again."

"Sansa," Jon said warningly, but she wasn't finished.

"How does it feel to be the one person Daenerys Targaryen probably hates more than anyone else in the world? Not me, not Arya, not Sam, Tyrion is probably a close second, but you. You're delusional if you think that you can negotiate with her. Aunt Dany is coming to put us in out places for keeping your incest baby away from her."

"If you say another fucking word-"

"Threaten me all you want, Bran told me your precious little girl tried to murder you while you slept. A true Targaryen, I'd say," Sansa said. "With Daenerys going Mad and you teetering on the edge, I think we all know which way her coin will land."

"She would have saved you the trouble," Jon said darkly. "And you better not fucking say anything. I swear if you tell anyone about what she did, I will throw you out of Winterfell myself."

Sansa smirked and shook her head, "Despite everything, you are my brother, and then the little bitch would be Queen." She brushed passed him and took the empty seat next to Arya. Gendry didn't acknowledge her arrival, opting to look at Rhaella who was sitting to his left, and Arya said a few terse words before looking away.

Jon took a deep breath to calm his boiling blood before walking to his seat, where Davos and Rhaella were talking about something. She looked oblivious to the stares she was receiving down at the lower tables, and she didn't know he stopped to listen.

"You can speak how many languages, your grace?" Gendry asked curiously. Even Arya looked mildly interested.

"A few." She said with a small smile as both Gendry and Davos looked intrigued. "High Valyrian, Low Valyrian from the cities around the Bay of Dragons, Braavosi, Volantene, Dothraki, a bit of Ghiscari, and the Common Tongue," she rattled them off.

Jon wondered if Robert Baratheon was having a stroke in the afterlife after seeing Gendry, Rhaella, and Stannis' former Hand converse amicably. It made him smile.

"It must get confusing," Davos said, thinking how he had a hard enough time with just the Common Tongue. "Dothraki just sounds like grunts and gibberish."

"Valyrian and Dothraki are my mother tongues. The Common Tongue is the hardest for me to understand," Rhaella said. "I only know the words that Mother speaks."

"Then you know more than us," Davos said looking across to Gendry who chuckled in agreement. "Daenerys always had a way with words."

"Is something the matter, your grace?" Gendry asked as Rhaella went quiet and seemingly noticed that half of the people at the lower tables were glancing at her longer than they were partaking in the feast.

"I've never spent a night away from Mother, and this will be the fifth," she said. She wanted to crawl into Daenerys' bed and cuddle into her arms, but this would be another night that she would be alone, save the wolf; another night where she would cry herself to sleep.

Right as Davos was going to tell her that Daenerys was coming to get her, Jon decided to stop eavesdropping and took his seat in between Davos and Rhaella. The whole room went silent as Jon cleared his throat, "Tonight we are here to celebrate the arrival of my daughter. By the grace of the Lord of Light, your princess has finally come home."

The obnoxious cheers of the Wildlings overpowered the hesitant claps of the Northmen, and it made it seem like more people were genuinely excited than they actually were. Many people wanted to know what Daenerys Targaryen and her child being alive meant for them.

"To the Dragon Princess," Tormund bellowed as he raised his horn. The Wildlings cheered again and enthusiastically raised their horns and glasses. The Northerners followed suit, some more readily than others.

Tormund chucked and made his way to the high table to get a better look at Jon's dragonpup. "Little Crow!" He slapped Jon on the shoulder and shoved his horn into his friend's chest before turning towards Rhaella.

"Look at how fucking beautiful you are," he said as he quickly grabbed under her armpits and lifted her out of the chair. Rhaella let out a squeak that was muffled in his furs as he hugged her. "Fierce like the Dragon Queen. A friend of the Freefolk like her father."

Tormund smiled and set her back down in the chair. He patted her on the head affectionately as Jon offered the horn back, "Keep it. She's too tiny, Little Crow. Giant's milk will make her grow big and strong." Davos chuckled, remembering the story, while Jon looked confused and grimaced at the smell.

"Your grace, Lady Karstark" Alys Karstark said and curtsied in front of Rhaella after Tormund made his way back to the Wildlings. Her eyes sparkled in the same curiosity as when she first laid eyes on Daenerys Targaryen as a child. She opened the top of the box she was holding and let Rhaella peer in. "I hope you like the second part of my gift."

Rhaella took the garment out halfway and tears pooled in her eyes. She didn't know what to say. It looked like the crimson dragon gown at Dragonstone.

"I remember seeing Queen Daenerys after the battle of Winterfell at the feast, and I thought she looked radiant. I tried to make it as best as I remembered it," she said. "I hope you like it, your grace."

"It's perfect," Rhaella said, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. She ran a finger over the three headed Targaryen dragon embroidery on the sleeves. It had never been on anything that was truly her own. "Thank you."

"I had hoped to help Lady Sansa with the Queen's maiden cloak. It was my dream as a girl," Alys said. Jon tensed and avoided her gaze, and Rhaella didn't understand the significance of her words. "It's been years since I practiced, but I managed to get it right."

Rhaella wished Lady Karstark was Jon's sister and not Sansa. The woman looked a bit like Sansa, too, "You're the kindest person from the North."

"You flatter me, your grace. House Karstark is with you," she said with a bow of her head. Sansa rolled her eyes at the display, while Arya smirked. Jon chugged the wine, hoping it would make his guilt disappear.

"Hello, your grace," Gilly said coming up to the table next with her children after Alys. Sam stood awkwardly behind them and tried to look anywhere but at Rhaella. "This is Little Sam and Talla," she pointed to each of the two children. "Talla is your age."

"Hello," Rhaella said politely as she looked the other girl. Talla favored Sam in looks with her dark hair and roundness. The girl also looked as scared of her as her father did. Little Sam seemed indifferent and stared at his feet.

"Maybe, you both can practice your needlework together," Gilly said hoping that the two girls would be friends. She nudged Talla closer to the table.

"I don't sew," Rhaella responded coolly.

"Oh, well maybe you two can play dolls," Gilly tried again. "Talla likes dolls."

"I don't play with dolls or toys, either," Rhaella said. She didn't want to play with Talla, who looked terrified of her. The girl kept trying to take a step back as Gilly nudged her forwards.

"I'm sure there is something they can do together, Gilly," Jon said to ease the tension. The answer seemed to be enough for the woman because she nodded happily and told the children to say goodbye.

"There isn't," Rhaella muttered coldly as she looked at her uneaten plate of food. 

While Jon wanted them to be friends, he decided to let it go. He didn't need to add another reason for Rhaella to resent him. Instead he remembered what Davos said about the food as she looked at it longingly, "You've barely touched anything on your plate."

"I'm not hungry," she said as her belly growled with hunger.

In response, Jon took a roll off her plate and tore a piece off. He plopped the bread in his mouth and swallowed, "It's not poisoned Rhaella." He handed it back to her, and she nibbled sparingly along the edges.

"What if the rest of it is?" Rhaella asked, expecting him to put down her fears. There were too many people there that could have put something in the food, despite having taste testers.

"Then I will taste the rest of it," Jon said as he grabbed her plate. "And every meal after, until you feel safe."


	8. A Dragon is Not a Slave, Only in the North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn everyone that I will be going on vacation for the next two weeks, and I don't know if I'll update during that time. Partially the reason why I'm not going to make it a priority is because I am getting more hate than I expected (mostly on Fanfiction.net, but it still bothers me). It sucks that rude words from anti Daenerys people and people who still complain about the Jon being King thing (after I explained that I wrote the first chapter before 8x05 and the first 2.5 before 8x06 several times already + he never wanted it in this fic) hurts worse than people who provide overly harsh criticism. Although after S8, I wouldn't have been surprised if D&D made Jon want the throne after 8x05. Sometimes it's like I'm being pulled in several different directions, and I just need a break lol.
> 
> Obviously, I know a lot of people still love this story, and I am grateful for everyone who has stuck around and comments! This is one of the only stories I've written that I am super proud of when I reread it. While I've seen people use some of the same ideas in my fic, I think it's pretty unique. I only write stuff that I wish other people would.
> 
> If you haven't noticed, I really like writing angsty dialogue between Jon and Rhaella, and I'm going to admit this right now- Sansa Stark used to be my favorite character and I love to write her scenes. I also love to read about Sansa in Jonerys fanfiction (whether she is a bitch or comes around). So yeah, this chapter has a lot of this.

It was Arya's turn to babysit, and she couldn't help but smile as Rhaella giggled in response to Ghost licking her toes, her legs dangling off the edge of the vanity chair. It was so innocent and happy- a side that Arya had only briefly seen when she was playing with the Wildling children. Even the servants who were lighting the fireplace and unmaking the bed grinned at their new princess.

The servant unsuccessfully trying to undo her braids seemed more amused than frustrated with Rhaella's wiggling. It was quite funny to see Ghost come back for attention when she managed to kick him away. It almost made Arya want to get her ready for bed, but then she came to her senses. The poor girl would probably have knots in her hair for days if she tried, and it really wasn't in her personality to do so.

It was no secret that Gendry was in favor of returning Rhaella to Daenerys, and Arya tried to remain neutral as her brother and husband were opposing each other. Even though she loved Jon with all her heart and hoped he could keep his child, she didn't think it was worth it to see her wilt in the harsh North. If she was seeing the true Rhaella, the girl was a vibrant bloom.

Unfortunately, the positivity didn't last long. Almost as if the white walkers had risen again, a coldness settled in the room as Sansa walked in. All smiles and laughter died as the servants bowed their heads before resuming their duties.

"You are all dismissed, I would like to get my niece ready for bed myself," Sansa said sweetly as Rhaella's blood ran cold. The servants curtsied and began exiting the room. There was no indication of whether they thought Sansa was trying to be genuine or not, and it frightened her. "You, too, Arya."

Something didn't feel right, but surely Sansa wouldn't try to hurt her; not when it would kill Jon. Ghost was still there, but she wanted to be cautious, "Rhaella," she said trying to be comforting. "If you need anything, I'll be right outside the door."

Sansa waited for Arya to leave before she began to undo the braids. Rhaella sat stiffly as a tension filled silence permeated through the air. Sansa was the first to speak, "They say when a Targaryen is born the Gods flip a coin, and the world holds its breath to see where it will land. Greatness or madness." Rhaella could see Sansa smirking in the mirror. "Do you know which side your mother fell on?"

"Greatness," Rhaella said with no hesitation even though she hadn't heard the saying before. Her mother was a savior and liberator. She went from nothing to being the greatest person Essos and Westeros had ever seen.

"And Jon, perhaps?" Sansa asked.

"I don't know," Rhaella said quietly. She didn't know much about him, but he killed her mother, the woman he loved, and he was holding her hostage, "Madness."

"Hmm," Sansa frowned, "You're wrong about Daenerys. You don't know what she did," Sansa said. Rhaella winced as she pulled her hair, and a look of confusion lingered in her eyes.

"I do. She saved everyone, and you all betrayed her," Rhaella said darkly. "You betrayed me."

"She burned down all of King's Landing, the Red Keep, the innocent civilians; everything turned to ash. We were right not to trust her," Sansa said.

"That's not true," Rhaella said. "Everyone said she was bad, but she wasn't. She's always been good."

"Did she tell you Cersei Lannister did it or did she not mention it at all?" Sansa egged her on. "Did she tell you the dragon destroyed everything after she was dead? Do you even know the real Daenerys Targaryen at all?"

"It doesn't matter," Rhaella murmured in response to her heart sinking. She would not let Sansa Stark get under her skin, despite the feeling of dread in regards to knowing Sansa was speaking the truth that settled in her stomach. "Whatever she did, she paid for it with her life and mine. It's over," Rhaella tried to convince herself; surely there had to be an explanation.

"Your coin will flip to madness, just like hers." Rhaella squeaked when Sansa yanked her hair, "Your whore of a mother should have gotten much worse."

"I command you to leave," Rhaella said angrily as she found her courage. She was the blood of the dragon, the heir to the Seven Kingdoms, and she would not bow to wolves. Jon had officially made her the third most powerful person in Westeros, and she would not let Sansa torment her any longer.

Ghost growled as Sansa slapped her shoulder for her insolence. Rhaella tried to hold back tears as the woman smirked triumphantly. Sansa didn't know what was coming to her as Rhaella whipped around and swung her fist into her nose.

"You stupid girl," Sansa cried as she grabbed Rhaella by the hair and forced her out of the chair with one hand. The other was trying to cover her bloody nose

"Arya! Ghost!" Rhaella shouted, as Ghost jumped up and bit Sansa's arm. Sansa screamed and released the girl. Rhaella fell to the ground as Arya Stark ran into the room.

"Seven hells," Arya muttered as she looked from Rhaella crying on the floor to Sansa's bloodied nose and arm. She gave her sister a glare before going to the little girl.

Arya didn't really know what to do. She wasn't good with comforting people, and she had no experience with children. She bent down and hugged Rhaella awkwardly as Sansa seethed in the corner. Ghost continued to growl.

"Tell Jon I want her gone," Sansa spat looking at Rhaella as if she was the plague.

"Tell him yourself," Arya said. "I'm sure he would like to know what happened in here."

"You're Mad," Sansa accused as she looked straight into Rhaella's eyes, which burned with hatred.

"The next time you lay a hand on me will be the last time you have hands," Rhaella said with a sinister smile as the sound of dragon screeches could be heard in the distance. For a brief time, she could feel her bond with Daenera again, "Dracarys."

"What have you done?" Sansa shouted.

...

Jon put his hands over his face as the council argued around him. Not only did he have to deal with what happened between Sansa and Rhaella, the dragon was the main issue. It had broken free from Bran and had burned down half of the grain stores, ate a few of the goats, and collapsed an unused tower, luckily. However, there were a few casualties, which did not sit will with anyone.

"Let it go," Jon cleared his throat. The white dragon had been put in chains after Bran managed to get ahold of its mind again. It seemed as if half of his small council was working behind his back; a few scorpions surrounded the dragon, and Tyrion and Sansa had commissioned the West and the Riverlands to make more of them to prepare for Daenerys.

"We should wait for Lady Sansa and the Grand Maester before making any rash decisions," Tyrion spoke up as most of the people in the room stared at Jon with looks of horror.

"Sansa is not welcome in these meetings any longer," Jon said murderously. "Sam is better fit to tend to her, while she awaits punishment. The dragon will be released."

"She was attacked, your grace. Isn't that punishment enough?" Tyrion argued. 

"I warned her to be kind," Jon said with a sigh. He didn't want it to have to come to this, but he knew he had to do something. "She harmed my daughter, and I will not tolerate it."

"And you shouldn't, but the dragon killed six innocent people, your grace," Tyrion protested. "We don't have enough grain to support everyone should winter come soon, and yet you want to free it."

"It was an accident," Jon said. "Sansa knew what she was doing."

"Your daughter commanded it. It was no accident," Tyrion said. Word of what transpired between Sansa and Rhaella spread like fire throughout Winterfell. "Make excuses, but that girl is dangerous. Give her a dragon, and we will be finished before Daenerys gets here. It needs to be put down before this happens again."

"Bran can make it go back to Essos," Jon said looking pointedly at his brother. Killing the dragon was out of the question. "Rhaella isn't dangerous." Bran stared back knowingly, and Jon quickly looked away.

"We need him for battle strategies and information, your grace," Brienne said. Learning what Daenerys planned was the only way they had a chance to beat her, and even then, their chances were slim.

"Daenerys has already taken back Meereen, Astapor and Yunkai have declared for her, Volantis' slaves and followers of the Lord of Light are rebelling against the Masters, and the Braavosi worship the woman who beat Death," Bran said. "I cannot be in two places at once."

"That's impossible. She sent the letter only yesterday," Tyrion said.

"A glimpse of her on Drogon was enough for the people to fall on their knees and cities to rebel," Bran replied. He turned to Jon, "She went to Meereen before the dragon arrived, knowing that Rhaella wasn't coming home."

Jon swallowed guiltily, but he chose to remain quiet. Somehow everything would work out- it had to.

"How much time do we have?" Brienne asked cautiously. Everyone held their breaths as they waited for Bran to respond. His silence could not mean anything good, and Tyrion began chugging his wine in response. Jon's eyes glimmered with delusional hope, while everyone else's were downcast with fear.

"I don't know," Bran murmured. Daenerys was better than most at hiding their decisions, until they were acted upon. Still, once the Dragon Queen had everything she needed, she would be headed to Westeros. "Not long."

"We need to let the dragon go," Jon said after a thick silence broke out again.

"We need to kill the dragon more like. Bronn hit Drogon in mid flight once. He could surely do it again to a smaller chained one with scorpions of Qyburn's newer design," Tyrion said as everyone noted Bronn's absence. Anyone with some arm strength and adequate aiming ability could do it.

"No," Jon said thinking of Daenerys' face when Viserion was speared by the Night King, and how she became a shell of herself when Rhaegal died and Missandei was beheaded. Rhaella would be devastated. "If any harm comes to it, it is an act of treason."

"Perhaps leaving it chained and alive can be a compromise for now," Brienne said as they clearly weren't going to get anywhere. 

Jon didn't like it, but it was only temporary. As much as he wanted to believe that Rhaella wouldn't do anything more with the dragon, he knew she was capable of burning Winterfell down without a second thought. If his home was going to burn, he wanted it to be from Daenerys taking her revenge as morbid as the thought was.

"How much are you willing to risk for one little girl, compared to the thousands you are sworn to protect? The thousands that will die if you keep this up?" Tyrion asked dreading the answer.

"Everything," Jon said feeling more sure of his words than anything. "I murdered my love and my daughter for thousands, and where did that get me? Nowhere. A crown I didn't want, grief that almost killed me, a second chance with a child who hates me- yet I can't lose her. If I let Rhaella go, I'll have nothing again. I have to try to ask Dany for forgiveness."

Tyrion sighed as his eyes flashed with guilt. He hoped for Jon's sake that condemning them to Daenerys' wrath was worth it for a fleeting moment of happiness. "Then I suppose there is nothing else to discuss." He would discuss strategies behind Jon's back with Sansa, Sam, Bronn, a reluctant Brienne, Bran, and a few of the Northern lords soon enough. "We must call the banners, and hope that some of the Southern Houses send aid."

Tyrion stood up and bowed his head, as he turned to look at Brienne. She didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she got up quickly and took her leave before he could say anything to her. Bran told Podrick to take him to the Weirwood tree, and Tyrion waddled behind them.

"You'll have nothing if Daenerys burns down the North," Davos said finally, after he was trying stay out of the conversation. He stood up and gave Jon a look of pity, "But if you let Rhaella go, you'll know that she is happy and alive, and that's more than what you had before."

Deep down Jon knew Davos was right.

...

"Avy jorrāelan," Rhaella whispered as she put her forehead to Daenera's snout. "Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor." The dragon whined and flapped her wings in agitation, as the heavy iron chain clinked. She tried to push the thought of the scorpions out of her mind. _Dragon killers,_ Gendry had said when she asked him what they were before running to her dragon in tears.

She didn't know how long she stood stroking Daenera's rough scales, but the wind whipped her hair into tangles and tears were frozen on her cheeks. They were going to kill her dragon for what it did, and it was her fault. Sansa had wounded her pride and her feelings more than she had physically hurt her, and she shouldn't have been so careless, even though she wanted to burn down everything in that moment.

As if Arya Stark wasn't enough, a band of guards now followed her. The men proved to be a useful barrier for her to hide from the stares of the people she passed, which was the only good thing that came out of having them around; she saw the way the people looked at her with fear and hatred. Now, they stayed well behind the singed ground, away from Daenera's circumference.

Daenera snorted in irritation as Gendry hesitantly made his way towards Rhaella. It was a good sign because the dragon had been breathing fire when anyone headed in its direction, "Your grace," Gendry said as Rhaella turned to look at him. "Jon doesn't want you outside this long. It's too cold."

"I will spend as much time as I want with Daenera," Rhaella said angrily. "I won't let her be alone in her last moments."

"He swears that no harm will come to her, that it will be treason," Gendry said. "She might not be free, but she is safe."

"Like me," Rhaella said with a sigh. She whispered something to the dragon in High Valyrian as she stroked its scales. "Except we're not safe. There are too many snakes in the North." Gendry didn't catch the last part.

The dragon grumbled as Rhaella walked quickly in front of Gendry. She ignored the guards and Arya who followed behind her wordlessly as she made her way back to the castle. She ignored the looks of fear as the people curtsied and bowed their heads when she walked past.

"Your grace?" One of the guards questioned as Rhaella headed towards the broken tower and the First Keep. She ignored them and walked faster. Something in her heart pulled her in that direction.

Rhaella stopped in front of the ironwood door of the crypts. The guards looked at her skeptically as she pulled the door open. "What is this place?"

"Your grace, it isn't a place for children," another guard spoke.

"The crypts," Arya said. It seemed like a lifetime ago where she, Bran, and Rickon would run through the halls while Jon and Robb would play jokes and try to scare them. "You can see them if you want."

Rhaella didn't look back to see if Arya and the guards had followed her down the winding steps. She passed a dozen tombs with statues of Starks that were long gone and didn't pay them any attention. Something down there was calling to her blood, and it felt familiar and loving.

"Rhaella?" She heard Arya Stark call her name, but everything seemed so far away as she passed the only statue of a woman and a newer statue of a man with a sword taller than her. 

Her legs felt like lead as her heart lead her to the next alcove. A dragon's skull was laid on a stone platform gathering dust with half of it's jaw gone, lost long ago in the Battle of Winterfell. Rhaella touched the smooth part of its cheek bone before sinking to her knees. _Viserion._

...

The guards and Arya stayed a respectful distance away from Rhaella as she sang to Viserion's head. She took a few candles by the statue of Lyanna Stark and placed them around the skull, since one statue didn't need all of them. She held onto one as she prayed to the Lord of Light, unbothered by the hot wax dripping down her hand.

Jon's eyes swam with tears as he listened to Rhaella's sweet voice sing in High Valyrian. He could have sworn Arya had brushed a tear away, but he didn't comment. "She's been singing for hours," his sister whispered as she put a hand on his arm before she and the guards quietly left.

Daenerys had told him that Rhaegar Targaryen had liked to sing; that he could bring people to tears with just his voice much like Rhaella had done in a language he didn't know. He waited for her to pause before walking up to her. Jon winced as she ran her hand through the candle flames before touching the skull again. She barely glanced at him with her bloodshot lilac eyes, instead she intently focused on the dragon.

"Dany said he was the sweetest one out of the three," Jon said. "He died bravely, both times. I'm sure that if he was here, he would have loved you most of all."

She already knew, and nothing he could say would ever comfort her. "When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," Rhaella finally murmured as a tear slipped down her cheek. "When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves."

Jon felt as if he had heard that saying before, yet he had no memory of it.

"He died so that Mother could get pregnant with me," Rhaella said quietly, "He died again so that I could have a second chance to be born after you killed me. I would have bled out of her, after Rhaegal's death paid for her life." She rubbed the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand and took in a deep breath. "I know he loved me; he gave up both of his lives for mine."

"Rhaella, I will regret it for the rest of my life," Jon said with a tortured expression. "I love you." He never told her while she was awake.

"He doesn't belong down here, and my Daenera doesn't belong in chains," Rhaella said changing the subject. "Dragons were born to fly."

"The council wants the dragon dead," Jon responded, pondering the dragon's name. "I know it was an accident, but-"

"It wasn't an accident," she cut him off. "I didn't intend for her to destroy the grain stores, but I wanted Sansa to burn." She wanted them all to burn for what they did to her mother, but Sansa's saying about the coin frightened her a little. And then there was the dark thought that maybe they could all work things out in the end; she buried it in her mind. "And I thought you were the King."

"When she recovers she will be punished, but she's your family. We all have to compromise." Jon said. "And trying to burn people won't make anyone trust you."

"No, she's not. I don't belong here, and I never will," Rhaella said with a frown. She didn't want to compromise when it came to her dragon's freedom. 

"You do."

"I see the way they look at me. I don't know that look. It's not the way people looked at me across the sea, only here. And last night, I forgot for a while." When Ghost was licking her toes and the servants and Arya smiled with amusement, she almost forgot that Aegon killed her mother and that he wasn't letting her leave. She almost imagined that she was in King's Landing with her favorite aunt, and Jon and Daenerys were asleep in the next room. "But then, I remembered."

Rhaella followed his gaze to the statue of the woman. He smiled sadly up at it before speaking, "That's my mother, Lyanna Stark," he paused for a moment, "You are a Stark as much as the rest of us."

"No, I'm not. I'm a dragon, not a wolf," she said. The statue of Lyanna Stark looked like she was weeping. Rhaella could find no sympathy for the woman who ruined House Targaryen and her son who would have successfully destroyed it if the Lord of Light hadn't intervened. Perhaps that was why she was weeping.

"The North is apart of you, and you don't have to choose," Jon said. 

"You chose Stark," Rhaella said icily. Mother would have said she had the wolf's glint in her eyes. Her blood boiled like a dragon's. "And I choose Targaryen. I will always choose Daenerys Targaryen, no matter what anyone tells me, no matter what she did. I was born to love her; only a dragon can love another dragon after all, and you chose to be a wolf."

"Rhaella, I'm sorry," Jon began to tell her with pleading eyes.

"If you were sorry, you would let me go home. A dragon is not a slave, only in the North it would seem. But I'm not from here; I wasn't born in Westeros. I have no love for this place, just as it doesn't have any for me. I want to go home," Rhaella spat.

"I love you," Jon said. He wanted to reach out to touch her cheek, but then thought better of it. "You are my daughter, and Stark blood is in your veins."

"When I was little I used to love the idea of you, but then I learned the truth. Greyworm is my father, the Unsullied are my fathers, the Dothraki men are my fathers, even Drogon has been there more for me," besides for the pang of sadness in her heart, she liked watching him break. She didn't want to shed another tear because of him. "In another life, Sansa could have braided my hair and taught me needlework, Arya could have been my hero, I could have sat on Bran's lap as Podrick pushed us around by the Weirwood tree, and you could have been the most important man in my life- but all of you chose Stark, never knowing what life could have been like if you had opened your hearts to Targaryen." She smiled sadly at what could have been. 

"Rhaella, I'm-"

"I know," she said rather calmly. She was a dragon, and she wouldn't be weak anymore. "But that doesn't undo what you did and what you are doing now. You don't know me, and I don't need you or your family. I never have."

"But you want us, just as I want you," Jon said, knowing it was the truth, even if she would never admit it.

"When I wanted a father I went to Greyworm, when I wanted an aunt I went to Kinvara, when I wanted a brother I went to Drogon, and when I wanted an uncle I went to the Unsullied. When I wanted friends, cousins, sisters, grandparents, or anything at all I went to the Dothraki. When I wanted Mother she was always there, but you weren't," Rhaella said. "They took us in after you discarded us. I'll never be a Stark because you decided that we weren't good enough, that our love wasn't good enough."

"That's not true. I'm so sorry," he said as she walked past him, deciding to leave the crypts.

"Me too," she whipped around to face him. "I overheard someone talking about Mother coming here with an army. Despite everything, there are a few people in the North that don't deserve it. I wonder if you would even recognize Drogon with how big he has grown."

As Rhaella left him in front of the statue of Lyanna Stark, she finally smiled in excitement. Daenerys was coming to bring her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people have been wanting Jon to grow a pair and realize what he is doing is wrong. Maybe he just needs to spend more time with Davos... or ya know maybe when he sees Drogon it will set him straight lol.
> 
> Daenerys will be in the next chapter!


	9. A Dragon on the Eastern Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't get this chapter out sooner. I completely redid the last part of the chapter a few times, and I'm still not super into it. I was just going to post the Daenerys half, but I figured hey why not just leave in the last bit since I wrote it.
> 
> I wish I was back on vacation despite my nasty sunburn. I guess I'm not a true dragon after all.
> 
> I also changed my username (it was DarkOutlawQueen)! I figured that I needed to switch from one tragic pairing to another, since this is the one I actually write about. But hey at least Robin sacrificed himself for his true love... the same cannot be said for Jon.

Daenerys swore that she would never ride Drogon again after flying with Rhaella. Too many painful memories resurfaced when she thought about being on the back of her dragon, and she wanted her last flight to be special. Unfortunately, Daenerys Targaryen never got what she wanted, and every time she had everything, it never lasted. Kinvara had seen that war was inevitable in the flames and encouraged her to go to Meereen to gather support as soon as possible. 

She could see the Great Pyramid in the distance as Drogon swooped down. Her mouth went dry as she realized she would be returning alone with only the dragons to keep her company. Kinvara, Greyworm, and the rest would join her as they made their way to Meereen on horseback, but it still made her feel empty. It wasn't so long ago when team Targaryen was at the top of the world as they prepared to leave for Westeros.

She thought of sweet Missandei and her Old Bear as Missandys and Jorion screeched from above. The two little ones had been restless without Rhaella, and Drogon was quick to lash out at any annoyance. Daenerys had once thought about bringing the baby and Jon to Meereen when everything in Westeros settled down. Now, any thought of taking Rhaella out of their secluded area of Braavos was made in jest or out of wishful thinking. Still, the title of Princess of Meereen would have suited her daughter; Rhaella's radiance could outshine the opalence of the Great Pyramids tenfold. Perhaps that was why the North wouldn't yield; they had been exposed to the brightest light their desolate wasteland had ever seen. 

Daenerys had to swallow a lump in her throat as she painfully imagined Rhaella, her perfect little heir, on her lap as she sat on the iron throne. She could not dwell on what could have been, so her thoughts turned to Jon Snow. Dany wondered how Rhaella would react to meeting her father for the first time. Her daughter was quick to love and quick to lash out like so many of the Targaryens before her; it was just a matter of how much hatred had been festering since she told Rhaella the truth. She just hoped Jon was still too stupid (or honorable as the Northerners and Tyrion would say) to turn Rhaella against her. Tyrion and Sansa would be unsuccessful at least; Daenerys had never tried to hide her hatred of them. However, she didn't have any hope that Jon could resist turning on Rhaella if Tyrion and Sansa whispered in his ear that she was evil, not after what he did to her.

She even thought of naming Tyrion Hand of the Queen, and Varys, Olenna, Ellaria, Yara and Theon, and everyone else she had lost along the way or betrayed her in the end as Drogon flew lower. His massive wings cast a shadow over the Meereenese houses, and she held her breath as people looked up at her and Drogon. She was not prepared for the welcome that awaited her.

"Mhysa!" The people screamed in shock and utter happiness. Daenerys held her breath in disbelief as the people cried out her name with tears streaming down their faces. People sank to their knees and reached up to the sky, seemingly trying to touch her. She was their angel flying down from heaven.

"Mhysa! Mhysa is back!" They cried. "Mhysa! Mhysa is alive!" Daenerys tentatively waved, and the people cheered. Their faces had no traces of fear, only love, and it gave her the confidence she desperately needed. As word spread throughout the city, more people flocked outside to catch a glimpse of their once dead Queen. They cheered and celebrated throughout the streets, for Daenerys Targaryen, their Mhysa, had finally returned home. 

It was nearly too much for Dany as Drogon flew to the steps of the Great Pyramid, Jorion and Missandys following close behind. Daario came barreling down the steps, followed by the Unsullied she had left to guard the city. Drogon growled in warning as Daario picked her up and spun her around. She had never known him to be so emotional, but he smiled through his tears and kissed her hand as he eagerly lead her inside.

"My Queen, we were told that you were dead, that a Northern traitor killed you," Daario said as Dany looked around. Everything was exactly how she remembered it. "What happened?"

"He did," Dany whispered. Her hand involuntarily went to her stomach as she relived the memory. "A Red Priestess brought me back. I've been in Braavos."

"Braavos?" Daario asked incredulously. "Why didn't you come back sooner? I would have killed every person who looked at you the wrong way in that god forsaken country. I would have burned every city to avenge you. I would have given the man who betrayed you a painful death."

Daenerys' eyes flashed with guilt at the mention of burning everything. "I was given a fresh start in Braavos from the Lord of Light," she said. In truth, she was tired of losing everything and more afraid for her and Rhaella's lives to even think of showing her face again. "It's complicated."

"Why come back now?" Daario asked out of curiosity. He watched the other two dragons fly around the Pyramid. "I see you have acquired new dragons."

"The man who murdered me stole something very precious, and I need help getting it back," Daenerys said, ignoring his comment on the dragons. Perhaps Rhaella would show up on Daenera before the next sunrise, and she wouldn't need his help at all. "There will be war."

"You know I will kill them all and bathe their streets in red, but what could he have taken that was more precious than your life? What is so important that its absence now invokes your wrath on the North?"

Daenerys looked lost in thought for a moment before gazing at the dragons flying freely around the city. "He stole my daughter. _Our_ daughter," Her voice was barely a whisper at the end, but the look of anger, shock, and pity on Daario's face indicated that he heard her clearly.

...

Kinvara was right. Daario and the Second Sons were gathering weapons and spreading the word that Queen Daenerys had survived death throughout Essos. Sellswords, soldiers, and commoners alike pledged themselves to her cause. The entire continent was rejoicing, and fine Dornish Red seemed to be more valuable than gold. If one of the Seven Kingdoms had to prosper, she was glad it was Dorne; the rest of them were faring quite poorly, if rumors were to be believed. Arbor Gold was nearly unattainable due to the Master of Coin bankrupting the Reach.

As she stood on the grand balcony on the top of the Great Pyramid, she thought of her people as she watched the sky turn pink and gold. Her Essosi soldiers eagerly thirsted for blood and war, and the rest of the Meereenese citizens were genuinely overjoyed that she came back to them. There were many things to be happy about, but Daenerys' raised spirits quickly diminished with each sunrise Rhaella didn't return. Still, she waited for the first golden sliver of sunlight to peak out from behind the hills every morning longing for her baby to come home.

"Rhaella is all right, my Queen." Kinvara said as Dany brushed tears from her eyes. She put her hands back on the warm stone, trying to remain strong.

 _For now..._ "Does she love him?" Daenerys asked quietly. She wouldn't blame her daughter if she did. Daenerys had always loved her father despite never meeting him and knowing what he was. She still loved Jon Snow in a way despite him stabbing her while Rhaella fluttered frantically in her womb. However, the thought of her daughter wanting to be with him in the North made her stomach drop.

"The flames can be fickle with emotions," Kinvara said, knowing what Daenerys was really asking. Perhaps somewhere deep down, Rhaella loved Jon Snow, but she did not favor him over Daenerys now. "I don't know, but I do know this; it's not the way she loves you."

"She won't love me when she sees me for the monster I am," Daenerys said sadly. She didn't know how far things would escalate before Jon surrendered or she was defeated, but she was willing to do whatever was necessary to get Rhaella back into her arms and away from her murderers and betrayers in the North.

After years of denial and pushing it to the back of her mind, the guilt of the Burning of King's Landing had wormed its way back into her thoughts. It had been too easy to take all of her pain and devastation out on the people who looked at her with fear and hatred instead of Cersei. She would not make the same mistake again; it was Bran Stark and Jon Snow who took Rhaella, just as Cersei had taken Missandei. Still, her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of Rhaella looking up at her in fear as Drogon burned the enemy Stark soldiers; she couldn't promise to spare everyone from fire and blood.

Daenerys withheld the truth and lied to her daughter about the destruction of King's Landing; what would Rhaella think when she learned her mother was nearly as bad as the Night King? Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the thought that she had burned little children younger than Rhaella; sweet little girls whose mothers' dying wish was for them to live. She knew that feeling all too well, thinking only of the baby in her last moments. If she could take it back she would do so without a second thought.

"The Lord of Light wouldn't have brought you back if you were a monster," Kinvara said seeing Daenerys war with her mind.

"He only brought me back to birth the last Targaryen, the Princess who is Promised," Daenerys said unconvinced, but still eternally grateful that her sweet Rhaella got the chance to live. Kinvara had told her the Lord of Light was only interested in the baby. _Hers is the song of ice and fire..._ She didn't know what Rhaella's prophecy was supposed to mean.

"And what a worthy role to play," Kinvara said with a knowing smile. She put a hand on Dany's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Rhaella is a special girl with a heart big enough to love the entire world, and you are the center of that world. You already know this Daenerys. Don't doubt her loyalty and love for you."

"I never deserved her," Daenerys murmured. She couldn't help but worry that Rhaella would hate her. It would be her punishment for being happy after what she did and for trying to be the best mother to Rhaella when she wasn't worthy.

"You do. The Lord of Light fashioned her out of the best parts of you and Jon Snow; she was made to love you," Kinvara said with certainty. "She was made to save you. Now it's your turn to save her." Daenerys smiled with watery eyes as Kinvara squeezed her shoulder. "Come now, your Grace, we have a surprise for you."

Kinvara led her to the council room, where Greyworm and Daario were waiting. It seemed so empty without Missandei, Jorah, and Tyrion, but they were enough.

"We have good news, my Queen. The people of Yunkai and Astapor have declared you Queen of the Bay of Dragons. Volantis is on the verge of collapse as the slaves revolt against the masters; the Red Priests and Priestess' have given us twenty stolen ships as a sign of goodwill. They are in the harbor as we speak," Daario said grinning. 

"Twenty ships?" Daenerys asked. She doubted that Jon Snow could amass an army larger than what twenty ships could carry, but she still worried. If by some chance she and Drogon fell, it would be up to her soldiers to win. "Will that be enough?" 

"Aye, twenty ships to get our men across the sea to join forces with the Greyjoy woman and Dorne," He said and handed Dany a scroll with both the Greyjoy and Dorne seals neatly pressed on it.

Dany scanned the contents of the letter. Yara informed them that only the Riverlands and the Vale sent reinforcements to the North, and their numbers were small. Gendry Baratheon, a decent lad that seemed to care for Rhaella, and Arya Stark had been in the North for some time. The Stormlands were trying to remain neutral despite Arya being Jon's sister. Daenerys smirked when she read the Lords of the Reach refused to send help and provisions to the three kingdoms supporting the Crown due to Bronn destroying their economy. The West had no love for Daenerys, but they also didn't support the Crown or Tyrion inheriting Casterly Rock.

Daenerys could take the Seven Kingdoms if she wanted to. She had the support of Dorne and the Iron Islands, the richest kingdoms whose armies were still intact. The Reach would declare for her if she disposed of Bronn, and perhaps the West would too if she got rid of Tyrion and left them alone. If Gendry was helping Rhaella, she would accept his neutrality until she won. However, she pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind. Rhaella was far more important than taking back the entirety of Westeros.

"Well, what do you think, my Queen?" Daario smirked.

"That we will be going to Dragonstone to meet with Yara Greyjoy and Quentyn Martell," Daenerys said as a flash of fiery determination danced in her eyes.

...

Rhaella watched the soldiers come in as she stood on the ramparts with Arya, Gendry, and her guards. Jon was expecting them in the throne room to greet Lord Edmure later on, but it was Arya who wanted to get a look at them, so Rhaella was forced to stand there, too. Rhaella quickly learned that Arya was not a pushover; her aunt, as Jon would say, was utterly terrifying when she calmly made threats or expressed her disappointment.

"House Tully of Riverrun. My uncle Edmure is the Lord," Arya said as she noticed Rhaella's eyes flitting from the blue and crimson banners to the scorpions being wheeled in. "Insufferable man, but he is decently loyal when threatened. I'm sure he'll shit himself if he sees your dragon." 

A smile interrupted Rhaella's melancholy visage, and Gendry shot her a dirty look. "Oh, I forgot that such vulgar language should not grace the little dragonpup's delicate ears," Arya said rolling her eyes as Gendry sighed. She had taken a liking to Tormund's nickname and started using it, much to Rhaella's annoyance.

"Jon won't like-" Gendry started before Arya cut him off. Jon had already berated her once before when she called Sam a fat whiny coward in front of Rhaella.

"Jon doesn't like much," Arya said. "And no one here is going to tell him that I badmouthed my uncle in front of his precious princess." It was an audible threat to the guards as she grabbed Rhaella's hand. 

"I want to go to my room," Rhaella said as Arya lead her down a set of stairs. There wasn't much to do, but it made her feel safer with all of the soldiers coming in. She didn't play with toys, but she liked to read. Davos had brought a few books from the library on Targaryen history, and she was slowly making it through the first one. The Common Tongue was not her first language, and almost everything was written in High Valyrian or one of its dialects back home. She wanted to ask Davos to find someone who could teach her how to read better, but she didn't want Jon or Arya to find out. They would think she was stupid.

"So you can sit and sulk?" Arya teased. Her little niece looked sullen and didn't crack a smile. Why couldn't she be good with children? Arya really was trying to get along with Rhaella, but almost everything she said or did either scared her or was taken the wrong way. Suddenly she had an idea, "You know what makes me feel better when I'm sad?"

"No," Rhaella said as Arya squeezed her hand almost tenderly.

"Hitting people with swords," Arya smirked at Rhaella's facial expression. "I saw you with that Wildling boy, and you're decent, but you still have a long way to go. I'm going to train you." And Arya Stark, the Savior of the Battle of Winterfell, didn't offer to train just anyone- in fact she had never offered before.

Rhaella didn't really know what to say as Arya eagerly lead her to the tilt yard in the secluded corner where she practiced. Gendry said something about going to the forge and left the two of them alone. Arya found two wooden training swords and threw one to Rhaella, who just barely managed to catch it.

"Next time, you will catch it with confidence," Arya said smirking. Rhaella was already leaps and bounds ahead of her when she first started learning from Syrio. She knew how to hold the sword, and it didn't seem too heavy in her delicate grip. Arya moved the sword to her chin, lifting it up. "You're skinny and so tiny that the wind could blow you away. That makes you a harder target."

"You're small, too," Rhaella said almost shyly.

"You'll be lucky if you make it to my height, dragonpup," Arya joked. It wasn't as if Jon or Daenerys were two of the tallest people in the world. "Now, raise your sword. I want to see how good you are."

Arya was the first one to strike, and Rhaella met her blade with determination. She slashed in all different directions and tried some of Syrio's moves- all of which Rhaella was easily able to counter. Arya wondered if she learned from a Water Dancer because it was clear that the girl knew what she was doing. Arya started landing harder blows and tried more complicated moves in response to a near miss to the neck. It was a wonder how a child was lasting this long.

Rhaella wasn't prepared for Arya to switch to Westerosi fighting tactics. Arya almost knocked the sword out of her hand a few times, and she was losing the ability to keep up. Blow after blow, Arya had backed her into a corner, and she could barely breathe. Still, she matched each strike, unwilling to forfeit. Arya took advantage of Rhaella's declining awareness of her posture and foot work. She slashed her sword in an arc and brought it down quickly, catching Rhaella completely off guard. The wooden sword hit the ground as Arya brought hers up to Rhaella's neck.

"I thought you were a Rhaenys, but maybe I can make a Visenya out of you," Arya said. Rhaella had exceeded all of her expectations. "Now pick it up, we'll go again."

"I can't," Rhaella huffed. Longevity was not her strong suit, since she typically quit out of frustration when she sparred with Greyworm. Her lungs were on fire, and her arms were sore.

"Did Visenya say she couldn't practice because she was tired?" Arya asked.

"I don't know," Rhaella muttered indifferently. While her mother did tell her stories about her ancestors, she kept them brief. It was painful for Daenerys, since she left the Targaryen name behind after her resurrection. She didn't want to tell her daughter the stories of betrayal, death, and incest- not when her new life was a chance to put all of that behind her. Visenya rode Vhagar and was Aegon's warrior wife; there really wasn't much else Rhaella was told about her.

Arya looked irritated with her answer. "You won't get better if you quit. Now pick up the sword."

Rhaella retrieved it just to appease her, but it seemed heavier. "Many people would kill for the chance to be in your position," Arya snarled as Rhaella dropped the sword in one strike. She had never been anyone's teacher before.

"I've been stolen from my home, my dragon is chained, and I am surrounded by snakes and murderers," Rhaella said. "They can have my fancy crown. I don't want it."

Arya's face softened for a moment, "I didn't mean- I meant that I am willing to train you. I don't just train anyone."

"You're only doing it because you have to watch me, and you can't practice if I'm not here," Rhaella said kicking the wooden sword away with her boot. She turned to leave, but Arya grabbed her arm.

"No, I'm doing it because you're my brother's child, my blood, and I want to," Arya said cursing her weakness and her inability to put her thoughts into words. "I just- I want to get to know you." _There. She said it._ Even if the North was somehow victorious, she and Gendry would have to return to Storm's End. There wasn't much time for her to get to know her niece. "I know I'm not good with kids, but I want to try."

There was a moment of silence as the two of them stared at each other. Arya slowly let go of her arm and looked towards the Riverlands' soldiers coming into the yard.

"There's a lemon tree outside our window. Sometimes at night Mother leaves it open, and I can smell them. When we wash before bed it smells like lavender lemonade." Rhaella said with a longing smile. Arya didn't know where she was going with this, but she hung on every word. "I like to eat them like apples, and Mother says my hair is going to turn yellow some day. She even gave me a baby lemon tree for my Nameday this year. Dragons don't plant trees, but I did, all by myself."

"That's nice dragonpup," Arya said. "Maybe I'll have Gendry plant a lemon tree for you at Storm's End, since they can't grow here."

"You wanted to get to know me," Rhaella murmured. She told Arya something personal, and it seemed like she was disinterested.

"Tell me how you learned to fight," Arya said.

"Greyworm teaches me," Rhaella said. "Mother didn't like it at first, she doesn't like blades, but he wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

"I wanted to fight with one of the Unsullied, but there wasn't much time," Arya said, not that she ever bothered to talk to the Dragon Queen let alone her forces. "They are supposedly the greatest soldiers in the world."

"They are," Rhaella smiled. Even though she had never seen them fight a real battle, they were her family.

"Well, we should probably get you ready to meet Uncle Edmure and for the council meeting tonight," Arya sighed. At least her words made the awkwardness disappear.

"I don't want to go to the meeting," Rhaella said coldly, killing the moment. "I'm not even on your side."

"Neither do I, but we have to. Just sit prettily and don't speak unless you're spoken to. It will make it go by quicker," Arya said fearing that the girl could sabotage the meeting. Apparently the small council was spreading the word that Rhaella came to Winterfell to escape Daenerys' madness and abuse. Even though it was a lie, she supposed if they knew Jon purposely provoked Daenerys' wrath, they would not have any allies.

"Then why do I have to go? No one wants me there anyways."

"You will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms after Jon," Arya said, provided that they beat Daenerys. It was unlikely, but they prevailed over the army of the dead and the Night King with worse odds. She supposed Rhaella would still be the Queen someday if Daenerys won anyway. "Jon wants you there, so it doesn't matter what anyone else wants."

"You can tell Aegon that's not me," Rhaella said. "I'm not a princess, well not in the way I'm supposed to be here."

"I don't think it will matter if I did, dragonpup," Arya said thinking of Ned Stark. While her father supported her passions, he still wanted her to be a Lady in the end. Jon still wanted his little princess. "You're the only heir and a girl. That's already two strikes against you right there." Perhaps she shouldn't be telling her this advice, but it wouldn't do much harm if they were going to burn, "But if you sit and listen, you'll start to learn how to play the game."

Rhaella pondered what Arya meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who has doubts on whether Daenerys feels guilty about King's Landing, I think I made it pretty clear that she does. Also, what were your thoughts about the Arya part of the chapter? I wasn't completely happy with it, but I wanted her and Rhaella to have a moment.


	10. Dragons Over Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to tell everyone that my headcanon of Jon having nothing to live for after he killed Dany was confirmed in the 8x06 script... it's the only joy I can find in this misery.
> 
> Life update: I am in the process of moving as well as doing a bunch of job interviews. I'm praying that I will get a job soon. I definitely don't want to leave you guys hanging with random updates, but my anxiety has been really bad... So hopefully I'll get the job, and I won't be stressed, so I can go back to weekly updates!

"Lord Edmure," Jon nodded as Edmure Tully reluctantly sunk to his knees. The Great Hall had been rearranged into a throne room for the occasion, and Jon sat in an ornately carved chair with Davos and Rhaella at his sides. 

The Lord only spared Jon a passing glace as he stood up and turned his focus to Rhaella. She was such a pretty little thing, dressed in a charcoal gown and rabbit fur cloak that made her silver hair gleam. The white direwolf was lying protectively by her dainty slippered feet, and she looked more like a Queen than Jon did a King, despite her youth.

Jon narrowed his eyes, and cleared his throat. "Winterfell welcomes your arrival and support, my Lord."

"I've brought 2000 men, your grace, and the scorpions you requested," Edmure said. Jon nearly scowled in annoyance at the mention of the scorpions, but he caught himself at the last second. "I would like my compensation in full, as promised."

"Lord Bronn and I will discuss payment in due time, my Lord," Tyrion spoke up from off to the side. He knew Jon was foolishly against the idea in the first place. "I'm sure they are of sufficient quality."

"My builders followed your instructions," Edmure said arrogantly, but he was not pleased with Tyrion's words. It was no secret that the Realm's staggering debt continued to climb, and he would take them back if they were unable to pay him. If Daenerys Targaryen planned on taking over the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms, at least the scorpions weren't a total waste. He looked pointedly at Jon, "It seems to me, your grace, that you are having trouble coming up with the money."

"We will discuss it," Tyrion said. "A Lannister alway pays his debts." Edmure rolled his eyes; he had enough of the Lannisters to last a lifetime.

"If you don't have the money I will accept another offer," Edmure said smirking. He turned his eyes to the Princess, "A betrothal between your daughter and my son. I'll even let her take her pick; I have three, after all. Once she has bled, we can start planning the wedding."

"No," Jon said when Rhaella looked at him with a mix of confusion and worry. He knew she didn't understand half of what was being said, but she knew enough. He would not sell his daughter for weapons and an army ever. "You will be paid in gold. Lord Tyrion, see to it that Lord Edmure gets what you promised him."

"Perhaps we ought to think on Lord Tully's proposal," Tyrion said. They could demand more military support, and Edmure was likely to send every man in the Riverlands if it secured his son being king. They also didn't have to worry about his soldiers abandoning them mid battle and could spend the money somewhere else.

"I won't marry anyone," Rhaella said, finding her voice. "I want to go home," the last part came out as a squeak of despair. "I want Mother."

"Such a sweet child, we must take pity on all she has endured," Tyrion said before Edmure started asking questions about why Rhaella would want to go back to her "abusive" mother. The girl looked as if she was about to say something, but Edmure spoke first. Tyrion nearly sighed in relief.

"They said the last dragon in Aegon III's reign was small and sickly, beautiful, but suffered from abuse and inbreeding," Edmure said. Jon gripped the arm rails tightly, knowing what he was implying. Ghost growled. "I will forgive the princess' outburst, since Daenerys did a number on her and children often do not have a sense of duty. But it is clear that the Targaryens need new blood, Tully blood."

Arya snickered. A boy with Frey and Edmure Tully's blood would be worse for the bloodline than wedding a close relative. Edmure looked at her with contempt.

Jon tried to maintain his level head, knowing he needed to maintain a good relationship with the Riverlands, "And I will forgive your insinuations, just this once. She is only one and ten, and I will not discuss this any further. Lord Davos will escort you to your rooms, and Lord Tyrion will pay you after you get settled in."

"This way, my Lord," Davos said as he hastily got up and patted Edmure on the shoulder. Edmure ripped his arm away and glared at Jon before reluctantly following the man.

"Ah, Sansa, good of you to join us," Tyrion said as Sansa came in after Edmure was lead away and stood next to him. She would have stayed in her room if her presence wasn't immediately requested by Jon.

"I thought I wasn't allowed at council meetings, your grace," Sansa said, looking irritated at Jon. Tyrion told her everything that went on and included her in their secret meetings, but the fact that Rhaella was seated next to her brother wearing her Stark colored dress with Ghost lying protectively at her feet was what truly infuriated her.

"This isn't a council meeting," Jon said, as everyone looked at each other in confusion. 

"Then why are we all here, your grace?" Tyrion asked cautiously. Everyone was under the impression that they were going to address Lord Edmure's arrival and the impending war.

"All of you here knows what happened between my sister and my daughter, and we are here to address it," Jon said looking directly at Sansa as Rhaella shifted nervously in her seat. "What you did was unacceptable."

"What I did?" Sansa jeered. "I was attacked by that insolent savage and your wolf. She had her dragon burn down the grain and kill people, and you still insist on keeping it alive."

"You will address your niece, your princess, by her name. From this moment on, anyone in this room who speaks ill of her without reason will be stripped of their lands and titles," Jon said as a collective gasp broke out amongst his council. Even Brienne, who held no malice towards the girl, thought it was a bit much. "Open hostility is treason."

"Your grace, that's absurd," Tyrion protested. "You know the princess did those things, and that she has wild tendencies. Her upbringing is the source of the problems."

"No, what's absurd is that a grown woman would pull a child's hair and hit her for no reason. The way Daenerys raised her has nothing to do with this." Jon said protectively. He could see the wheels turning in Rhaella's brain as she tried to keep up with the conversation, and he smiled reassuringly when he met her eyes. "Children make mistakes."

"Her mistakes cost lives and will cost many more if winter comes soon," Sansa said angrily. She wasn't fooled by Rhaella's downcast eyes and pout that made her look like a sad little cherub. "Every time you keep making excuses and ignore her behavior, the worse it will get."

"It's your behavior that we are addressing, not hers. It wouldn't have happened if you had been civil," Jon said.

"It wouldn't have happened if you got rid of her when you had the chance," Sansa seethed as Jon hit the armrest of his chair and stood up. She visibly paled at Jon's murderous expression.

"You will apologize and bend the knee to Rhaella or you will suffer the consequences," Jon bellowed. He was in no mood for her games any longer as he nodded for his guards to surround her.

Sansa looked at Rhaella, whose pouty lips were curled into a barely noticeable smug smile. Perhaps she would have apologized without meaning it, but she would never bend the knee to a Mad Targaryen. "I will not kneel to another abomination. Joffrey was enough."

She shrieked as the guards grabbed ahold of her and forced her to her knees. One of them grabbed her chin and forced her to look at Jon, whose eyes glinted with rage. "She tried to kill you!" Everyone's eyes flitted from Jon to Rhaella. "Ask Bran! It's true!"

"Lies!" he seethed as he walked towards her. "You have one more chance." His hand twitched and grazed the pommel of Longclaw.

"Your grace, please," Tyrion said as Sansa began to sob hysterically as Jon unsheathed his sword. Brienne almost looked like she was going to protest, but she held her tongue. "She's your family."

"I've already committed the most grievous of sins because she was my family," Jon said. There was nothing he could do that was worse than murdering his Queen and love, who was carrying his child. He looked at Arya for a moment to see her reaction, but her face was void of any emotion. "Since I now have to choose between her and Rhaella's wellbeing, I am always going to choose my daughter."

The guard grabbed Sansa's hair, and she screamed in pain. Theatrics weren't Jon's style, but she had pulled Rhaella's, who was still practically a babe compared to her.

"Jon, please," she said as he raised Longclaw in the air, but she had made her choice.

"Your grace, no!" Tyrion shouted as Jon brought his sword down. 

The sword sliced cleanly through her hair and fell into a willowy auburn clump on the floor. Sansa's hands immediately went to her hair, now too short to touch her shoulders, and let out a sob of despair as the rest of the room released their breaths. 

"You will never be a queen, and you will never be the Lady of Winterfell. I wasn't making idle threats about taking your titles away. Now everyone will know your shame," Jon said as he struck her with the flat side of the blade. She screamed in pain. "The next time you try anything stupid, I will not hesitate to use the pointy end."

Tyrion and Brienne went to comfort Sansa as Jon went to sit back in his chair, "Guards take Sansa to the cells and keep an eye on her."

"Your grace, hasn't she suffered enough?" Tyrion pleaded as Sansa cried and struggled to get away from the guards as they dragged her away.

"What I've done is nothing compared to how I suffered every moment for the last eleven years because I was stupid enough to trust her," Jon said angrily. Sansa was trying to ruin his second chance, and he couldn't let her go through with it. He also wasn't going to let Tyrion persuade him to leave her alone, "And because I was stupid enough to listen to you."

"Your grace," Tyrion said as calmly as possible, but Jon cut him off. The man flinched.

"I ask myself why I listened to you every night because when the fuck did you ever give Daenerys good advice?" Jon asked rhetorically. Tyrion's shoulders sagged, and Jon shook his head. "It doesn't matter anymore," he muttered as he gazed at Rhaella. If he hadn't listened, Tyrion would be dead, and he and Dany would have likely lived in a newly rebuilt Red Keep with their army of children. The thought made him want to burn the man alive, just like Daenerys had done to Varys. "Guards take Tyrion as well, since he is so keen to keep Sansa company. But don't put them next to each other; plots of treason will surely spew from their lips."

"You can't be serious, your grace," Tyrion chuckled nervously as the guards grabbed his arms. He looked to Bronn and Sam to help him, but they remained as silent as they had been the whole time. 

Ghost growled and Jon's eyes hardened, "I am not one to make jokes, Tyrion. I will not let you undermine me in front of our allies and manipulate me for your selfish gain any longer," Jon nodded at the guards, and they picked Tyrion up by the arms to lead him away. 

Jon ignored his groans and pleads and put his hand over his forehead in irritation. When he was done taking a moment he looked to everyone else. "Does anyone else have anything to say?" He asked. The room was dead silent. Brienne grimaced and Sam looked like he was going to pass out at any moment, while the rest remained stoic. "Good, then the council meeting is now adjourned."

For a moment no one moved, until Sam and Bronn bolted out of the room. Brienne nodded and took her leave, while Gendry and Arya lingered.

"I would like to visit my dragon," Rhaella said to Gendry as she gracefully stood up and smoothed her skirts. She didn't know what to make of Aegon's punishment of Sansa and Tyrion. She wasn't expecting him to do anything, and it confused her as to why he would ignore and lie about her wrongdoings when she admitted to them. He even said that he would choose her over Sansa.

Gendry bowed his head when she stood up, "I will accompany you, your grace," he said with a smile.

"No," Jon said as Rhaella was about to take Gendry's proffered arm. It made him a little jealous that she would have hesitated and shrugged him off if he had done the same. Gendry took a step back and nodded as Jon looked fondly at his daughter. "I would like to spend time with you, alone."

Rhaella's face remained stoic, until she spun around on her heels and sighed in defeat as he began to follow her outside. A few guards trailed behind them, and they stopped abruptly when they made it outside to the edge where the dragon's flames couldn't reach. 

The dragon meandered towards Rhaella until they met and snaked it's neck around her in a protective stance. "Don't come any closer," Rhaella warned as she crooned something in High Valyrian. The dragon purred as Rhaella beamed up at it.

It was tiny compared to how Jon remembered Drogon and Rhaegal; he doubted it could carry more than two people at one time. It's scales were shiny and glistened like sparkling snow, and he could truly say its beauty was the first thing that came to mind. Seeing Rhaella with the beast made him think of Daenerys.

"If I let the dragon go, you have to promise me that you won't let it burn anything else down," Jon said finally after he had been watching Rhaella stroke its snout for quite some time. Rhaella whipped her head around and decided to acknowledge his existence. "I am going to trust you."

"Why?" Rhaella asked.

"I would like to keep Winterfell standing for a while longer," Jon said. "And a dragon raining fire down will not accomplish those goals."

"No, I meant..." Rhaella trailed off when it hit her. She knew why he was willing to put his trust in her, and she didn't want to hear him say it. "Daenera." He looked confused, "Her name is Daenera."

"You named her after Daenerys," Jon said heavily. He didn't bring her up often to Rhaella, but she had unknowingly opened the window for a discussion. "How is she?"

"Alive," Rhaella said. In reality, she didn't know how her mother was faring without her. She hoped that she was fighting the darkness. "I think I make her happy." 

Jon thought that was an odd way to put it. "I'm sure you do. Dany wanted a babe more than anything." He looked lost in thought for a moment before turning her eyes back to Rhaella. He knew she was everything Dany ever dreamed of and more.

"Sansa said that I am an a-a bom-nation. I don't know what that means," Rhaella pondered the woman's parting words.

"Don't listen to Sansa," Jon said, not bothering to correct her. Hopefully she would keep her spiteful comments to herself and stay away from his daughter if he let her out of the cell. "She is narrow minded."

"Mother said you are her nephew. Is that why you murdered her, because you were ashamed and bad people, Tyrion and Sansa, told you to?" Rhaella asked with an incredibly small voice. She looked up at him with a vulnerable expression.

Jon didn't want to talk about his reasons for murdering Dany. Rhaella accused, cried, and brought up that he killed her mother in nearly every conversation they had, but she never asked him why. Perhaps the truth would allow her to forgive him. "Do you know how to ride?" Jon said finally. He would tell her the tale, but he wanted to take her somewhere peaceful.

"Obviously," Rhaella said looking back at Daenera. The spell was broken, and her mask fell back into place. "But I can't with the chains."

"A horse," Jon said with an amused smile. Rhaella didn't think it was funny, and he sighed.

"Yes. I've known how to ride a horse practically before I could walk. It's the Dothraki way," She said shrugging. He should have known that would be her response.

"It's a long story, but I will tell you if you will accompany me," Jon said. "I want to take you to the last place Dany and I were happy together."

"Okay," Rhaella murmured. It wasn't like she had anything else better to do anyway.

...

"What is it?" Rhaella asked with an expression of awe as she gazed at the waterfall. She was surrounded by the sea in Braavos, but the waves weren't as beautiful.

"A waterfall," Jon said, grinning at her curious smile.

"Oh," Rhaella said. She expected it it have a fancy name for as majestic as it was. "Does it stop?"

"I don't think so," Jon said. "It was here when I was your age. My father, well Ned Stark, took me here with my brother Robb to go hunting."

"What happened to him? Robb?" Rhaella asked wondering why she hadn't met Jon's other brother.

Jon swallowed painfully, "He's dead. He was murdered along with Lady Catelyn at Edmure's wedding. He broke an oath and chose love over duty."

"The Dothraki say that a wedding without three deaths is a dull affair, but Mother doesn't allow it anymore," Rhaella said seriously, and Jon couldn't help but chuckle despite the somber situation. Rhaella frowned, thinking it was bad luck that both of them were chosen to die, "Your brother... he must have been a good man..."

"He was," Jon said sighing at the painful memory, but Rhaella wasn't finished.

"To choose love over duty," she said.

Jon didn't say anything for a moment as he tried to collect his thoughts. Robb was a better man than he could have ever hoped to be. It was incredibly selfless for him to follow his wife and unborn babe to the grave. "Dany did something horrible," Jon said finally. 

"She burned a city," Rhaella mumbled. Sansa said that her mother burned King's Landing, and Aegon's facial expression confirmed it. She didn't understand, and she didn't want Jon to talk about it. Surely Mother would explain everything, "I don't like that you call her Dany."

"Dan-" Rhaella frowned and he sighed, "All right- your mother was hurting after she watched her friend and Rhaegal die, and she took things too far. I know I could've stopped her, but I didn't know who I was anymore. I wasn't there when she needed me."

"So you killed her," Rhaella said with an unreadable expression.

"Tyrion told me that she was going to kill Arya and Sansa, and I thought she would, after what she did. I knew I made the wrong decision the second I did it," Jon said as Rhaella walked away from him. "I've never loved anyone more than I love Daenerys, except you."

"I wanted to die. I was almost successful a few times, but someone always found me," he said painfully. Rhaella stood facing the waterfall for a very long time before Jon had the courage to walk up to her. "It was a dark year after Bran told me about you. I've never been quite right."

She was crying now, and Jon wanted to hold her, "I love you, Rhaella, and I know it doesn't fix anything, but I do. I never thought that I would ever get the chance to meet you because you would be in the highest of heavens. I could only imagine what you would have been like," Jon said as tears pricked his eyes. "You are so beautiful and incredibly smart, and I know that you have a good heart; I see it when you're with your dragon and Gendry, Davos, and Arya. I only wish I had the chance to watch you grow up, to be there as a father should."

"I'm not smart. I don't do... learning like people do here," She sniffed, struggling to explain the term. "I'm not good at reading in the Common Tongue."

"No one is good at everything, but reading can be learned. Davos could probably teach you," Jon said soothingly. She was glad he didn't think she was stupid. "I can't speak more than one language or sing as well as you. I don't have the ability to stick my hand in a flame without getting burnt, and I don't have your natural affinity to handle dragons." 

"Your mother isn't the Mother of Dragons," Rhaella said with a cheeky smile.

Jon grinned, "No, I suppose she wasn't."

She smiled for a moment, but it quickly faded, "I tried to kill you," she said finding her boots rather interesting. She knew that wasn't her; she was good- everyone back home always said so. "And you lied."

"It doesn't matter what you do, I will always forgive you," Jon said. "You were scared and hurting, and that makes people do horrible things."

Rhaella put her hand on his and his eyes widened in shock before gazing at her with love. "I think... I think you would have been a good father."

"I'm trying to be now," Jon said as a pang of hurt went through his heart when she removed her hand and put it neatly to her side. She looked back at the waterfall.

"Then surrender before the fighting starts. Please," Rhaella pleaded. If anything happened to her mother, the dragons, Greyworm, Gendry, or Davos, she didn't know what she would do. "Oh, please, Aegon."

"We should be heading back," he said noticing the setting sun. "I'll free your dragon tonight."

She rushed after him when he turned away to ready the horses. He was nearly to them when she grabbed his arm, and he jumped in response. "Please Aegon. I-I'm scared."

"Dany and I will come to an agreement," Jon said. "It will be all right."

"How? I live on the other side of the world. The only way you could ever win is if Mother dies. Please don't take her away from me again; she's mine," Rhaella pleaded. She knew Drogon would protect her mother, and she had better odds of winning because of him. However, it still didn't ease her fears. Daenerys died the last time she was in Westeros, and the thought of never seeing her mother alive again was too much for her to bear.

"It won't come to that," Jon said calmly. Dany wouldn't risk burning Winterfell down with Rhaella still inside the castle somewhere. She would have to meet with him to discuss terms eventually, and they had the home advantage in the field. 

"You don't know that," Rhaella said. 

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and rubbed her cheek. It was warmer than he expected, "I do. I couldn't do it again, no matter what happens."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Rhaella said. What could Aegon Targaryen do without a dragon? It was the scorpions. If one hit her mother, she was done for. She just hoped Drogon destroyed them first before anything bad happened. "It's everyone else."

"I'll deal with everyone else," Jon said. 

"You can't," Rhaella murmured. "But you can let me go home before the fighting starts and before Drogon comes."

"I don't know how to let you go," Jon said. He wanted her to be happy, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. "I don't want things to be like they were before."

"You do," Rhaella said, her eyes softening a bit. "It will be okay. I know it will."

"How do you know?" Jon asked as she gracefully mounted her horse without any help. She never ceased to amaze him. "How do you know that it will be okay?"

"Because you know I'll just be across the sea; you don't have to be sad anymore," Rhaella said biting her lip. She didn't forgive him, and she didn't trust him, but maybe after what he did for her, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. "I could send a letter."

Jon mounted his horse, and sadness lingered in his eyes. He didn't want to read about Rhaella's life, he wanted to be in it. He wanted to be there for the remainder of her childhood and watch her grow into the confident young woman she was destined to be, "I don't know if it will be enough."

"Maybe when I'm older..." She trailed off. Rhaella didn't think she would want to visit him ever again, but it was possible that she could change her mind later on. She had a dragon, and it only took hours to get from Braavos to Winterfell rather than weeks by ship. At the very least, she could try to play the game Arya mentioned by telling him what he wanted to hear, "Maybe... maybe it doesn't have to be forever."

Jon sighed as he urged his horse forward. He needed time to think everything through, "Come, Rhaella," he said as she lagged behind. She gazed back at the waterfall for a moment before following him. He swallowed a lump in his throat when he looked at her downcast eyes, "Let's go back to Winterfell."

Rhaella noticed that he didn't say _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was kind of liberating to write a more season 6ish Jon. Also, Rhaella not wanting to talk or think about Dany burning Kings Landing is mainly because I'm unsure of how I want her to act when they do have a conversation about it. At this point, she doesn't know the extent of the destruction, so it's easy for her to pretend that it didn't happen.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts and desires!


	11. Dragon Fever

"Daenerys agreed to leave Westeros peacefully if Rhaella is safely taken to the Iron Islands," Davos whispered. He had been corresponding with Yara in secret just in case Jon didn't make the right decision in the end. Luckily, Bran was too focused on Daenerys to be paying attention to Yara's ravens. "Once Jon releases the dragon, I will smuggle her out of the castle."

"You can't be serious," Gendry said. He looked at the older man and swallowed a lump in his throat when it was clear that Davos wasn't jesting.

"Yara Greyjoy is sending a ship to White Harbor. It should be there by the time we get there. Daenerys will be meeting us once we are far enough away from the North," Davos said looking at a map. If the Gods were good, they would make it to White Harbor in less than a fortnight. It was too risky to send Rhaella away on her dragon, since he was sure that Bran would be watching it periodically. "This is the only way to save Rhaella and the North."

"You no doubt heard what he did to Sansa. She deserved it, but this is treason. Arya might try to plead my case, but what about you?" Gendry whispered. He didn't want to see the man killed for kidnapping the Princess away from her kidnappers.

"Don't worry about me lad," Davos said. "I failed Jon, so I deserve whatever he plans to do with me."

"You didn't," Gendry sighed. Passing the blame around would not fix the consequences of Jon's actions, nor would it help everyone move forward. "But I will help you get Rhaella home."

Davos fished for something in his robes and smiled when he found it. He held out a nondescript bottle and shoved it in Gendry's hands, "Black hair dye," he said. "We'll dye her hair once we near civilization to pass her off as your daughter."

"The wolf sleeps in her bedchamber," Gendry mused, pocketing the bottle of dye, "How will we even make it out of the castle?"

"The same way I've snuck past dogs, lions, and all of the other beasts that guard treasure. We scope it out and search for its weakness. Then we will strike when the time is right," Davos said, but Gendry still looked unconvinced. Ghost was no ordinary wolf. "You will knock on Rhaella's door and tell a servant that she is needed elsewhere, while I study the room and the wolf."

"All right," Gendry said as Davos motioned towards the door. He needed to come up with a story to tell the servant that was long enough for Davos to scope out the room, but realistic enough to not arouse suspicion.

Perhaps, he would ask for a report about Rhaella's wellbeing and claim Jon wanted to know. Then he would send her to the kitchens to get Rhaella a glass of milk and a slice of pie for good behavior. Smiling at his sound plan, he followed Davos up the stairs to the Stark family bedchambers.

They could hear shouting before the guards let them enter the hall, and Gendry put his hand on the hilt of his sword just in case. He let out a sigh of relief when they got close enough to see that it was Jon who was screaming at Sam.

"Gods damn it, do something!" Jon shouted as he grabbed the collar of Sam's robes and pushed him into the wall. Gendry could hear Rhaella crying and servants hushed voices coming from her bedchamber. 

"I've given her everything I can," Sam stuttered. The man was shaking in fright as Jon glared at him. "She can't keep anything down, and we have to wait until her fever breaks."

"Give her milk of the poppy to help her go to sleep," Jon ordered. He glanced into the room and saw the servants' shadows flitting about.

"I can't. She could choke on her vomit if she doesn't wake up," Sam said and Jon angrily released him. Sam took it as a dismissal, and he fled down the hall as fast as he could.

"Jon, what's going on?" Davos asked as his king paced in front of Rhaella's door.

"Rhaella has the Winter Fever," he sighed.

"It will be all right. Don't most children in the North get it?" Davos asked.

Jon looked at the floor for a moment before looking up at him, "Sam said her fever is high, and I almost died from it when I was a child." His eyes were glassy. "I may need you to stand in for me, until she's better."

Davos nodded. He was no stranger for taking over for Jon when his mental health issues debilitated him. Unfortunately, his plan to deliver Rhaella to Daenerys was now fucked. She would be too sick to ride to White Harbor in the next few days. Jon left both Gendry and Davos outside and went to check on Rhaella. Davos cursed their misfortune.

Jon stood frozen in the doorway for a moment feeling guilty for keeping her outside so long. The room was stifling hot; a servant stoked the fire every time it started to die. Another put a cool rag on Rhaella's forehead and held out a bucket in case she needed to throw up. Arya sat in the corner furiously making an indistinguishable prayer wheel, and Jon smirked. Catelyn Stark had always made them for her children, and Arya insisted that it be done. She didn't realize the task would fall on her as she was the closest woman to Rhaella. It looked awful, but it was a nice gesture all the same.

The servant standing on the other side of the bed bowed her head and moved out of the way as Jon made his way over to his daughter.

"Aegon, my stomach hurts," Rhaella cried as she sat up. Jon quickly grabbed her hair and rubbed her back as she threw up into the bucket the servant held out. Rhaella cried harder in response as the servant gave her some water to wash the taste out of her mouth.

"It's okay," Jon said as she laid back down. He wiped her burning cheeks with a damp rag and gently rubbed her belly like he remembered Catelyn did for Robb and Sansa when they got the Winter Fever. "I know it hurts, but you need to calm down. Crying makes it worse."

"I'm cold, Aegon," Rhaella hiccupped, trying to hold in her tears.

"Seven hells," Arya complained in the corner. She wiped the sweat off her brow and huffed. Sansa was better at making things than she was, and it was nearly as hot as King's Landing had been.

"Once your fever breaks, you won't be so cold," Jon said, ignoring his sister and pulled up her furs. She shivered and he ordered a servant to bring in new bed warming pans, "You can call me Jon, you know." 

Rhaella threw up again before she could say anything and closed her eyes when her head hit the pillow. Jon hoped that she would get some sleep for a few hours before the next wave. Her eyes opened halfway, "I don't want to be alone," she whispered. "Jaelan Muña naejot vāedagon... I want Mother to sing."

Jon wasn't the greatest singer, and he didn't know that many songs. Arya was already preoccupied, and she was even worse than he was. He started to sing the Song of the Seven, one of the songs Catelyn used to sing to her children when they were sick. 

_" The Mother gives the gift of life,_  
_and watches over every wife._  
_Her gentle smile ends all strife,_  
_and she loves her little children."_

Rhaella smiled a little at the Mother's verse, thinking of how her mother could make everything better by just being in the room, "Aeg- Jon? Can you rub my belly again?"

Tears pricked his eyes as hers closed with a whimpering sigh when he began rubbing her stomach in slow circles. He could tell she was beginning to doze off as he got to the verses about the Warrior, Crone, and Smith.

_"The Maiden dances through the sky,_  
_she lives in every lover's sigh._  
_Her smiles teach the birds to fly,_  
_and gives dreams to little children."_

He imagined Rhaella's smiles taught the dragons to fly. The small folk in King's Landing would have loved their Princess Rhaella, the Good Queen Alysanne reborn.

_"The Seven Gods who made us all,_  
_are listening if we should call._  
_So close your eyes, you shall not fall,_  
_they see you, little children."_

When Rhaella was asleep Jon kicked off his boots and threw his brown gambeson on the floor before lying down next to her. Before sleep overtook him, he felt her snuggle into his side, and he smiled.

He woke up to her crying and shaking him. The stench of vomit almost made him gag.

"Jon, I couldn't find the bucket," she cried hysterically. It took him a moment to realize that the majority of it was soaking through his tunic and the fur he was using. "Are you mad?"

"No. It's all right, Rhaella," Jon said, noticing the servants and Arya had left. He carefully took off his tunic and balled it up in the soiled fur. He went to her wardrobe and picked a new nightgown to replace the one she was wearing. Luckily, the rest of the bedding seemed fine.

Jon called for the servants to clean her up and take away the soiled fur while he left the room. He leaned against the wall and put his hands over his face. She had only slept for a few hours.

"She'll be fine," Arya said as Jon jumped. She woke up from all the commotion and wanted to see what was going on.

"I don't know what to do," Jon said. He didn't want to just sit and wait it out. He wanted her to feel better.

"You can go to your room and put on a shirt for starters," Arya said rolling her eyes at a servant who stared at her brother. The corner of Jon's mouth twitched into a smile, and he shook his head, oblivious to the stares.

"Dany would know what to do," Jon sighed. Even Sansa knew more than him, and he wished that she was as motherly as she once was before Cersei, Joffrey, Littlefinger, and Ramsay changed her.

"Well, if Daenerys comes before she gets better, you can ask her. She's probably been puked on many times," Arya smirked. She would have liked to see baby Rhaella throw up on Her Majesty's expertly crafted gowns just to see her reaction. Jon hung his head in shame, and Arya sighed, "Hey, you are doing the best you can. She asked you to help her and didn't push you away; that has to mean something."

"She's probably dressed," Jon croaked.

"I can stay with her for the rest of the night if you want," Arya offered.

"No, I'm her father. It should be me," Jon said and Arya squeezed his arm.

...

After two days of throwing up and having meltdowns, Rhaella was finally starting to get better.

"I like Rhaenyra more," Rhaella said to Arya. "She was a warrior, too."

"Visenya was the best," Arya said. Davos had been teaching Rhaella how to read the "Dance of Dragons", and she offered to read her the heavy tome about Aegon's Conquest once he was finished. "And she wasn't eaten by Aegon's dragon."

Rhaella rolled her eyes as Arya began to read the story of how Visenya won the Vale. She listened intently, until Arya made her try to read the page. She only stumbled over the bigger words.

"See, you can do it," Arya encouraged, but Rhaella wasn't paying attention to her. She was more focused on the fact that Daenera screeched as she flew by the window. Arya smirked. "Gendry had to entice it with goats, while Jon got the chains off. It took all morning."

Rhaella thought they shouldn't have done that without telling her. "Can you open the window?" She asked. She wanted to reassure her dragon that she was all right.

"Nope," Arya said and felt her forehead. "You still have a fever, dragonpup. You need to stay in bed and rest."

"Just for a few minutes?" Rhaella whined, but Arya shook her head and wouldn't give in. She pouted when Arya gave her the look that warned her not to mess with her.

Jon smiled in the doorway before stepping in the room to check on Rhaella. He wondered how long it would take for Arya to melt at her puppy dog eyes. Perhaps he would never find out. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind as Arya stood up and shoved the book into his chest before leaving the room with a smirk.

"How are you feeling?" Jon asked. "Are you hungry? I can have some bread and fruit brought up, while the servants run you a bath."

"I'm not hungry," Rhaella said shyly as she stroked Ghost's back, who happened to be curled up asleep next to her.

"Are you warm enough? I can steal a blanket from Arya if you're cold," he said and Rhaella shook her head. "Do you need anything? Water? Is Ghost bothering you? I can tell him to get off the bed."

"I'm okay, Jon. I'm just tired," Rhaella murmured. "You can read to me if you want." Hopefully Arya wouldn't mind.

"All right," Jon said unconvinced. He opened up to the page where Arya left off and finished the part about Visenya letting the young King Ronnel of the Vale ride Vhagar. When he finished the chapter he glanced at Rhaella who was frowning, "What's wrong? Does your stomach hurt?"

Rhaella shook her head, "You're not as good as Arya. She reads in different voices."

"Oh," Jon chuckled as he put the book down on an end table. "It would probably be worse if I tried to."

"Probably," Rhaella murmured. For a moment, the two smiled at each other in silence before Rhaella yawned and nuzzled into her pillow. "Jon?"

"Yes?" He said quietly. He looked at her curious expression, as her eyes glinted mischievously. She resembled Arya for a moment, until her face softened. 

"Don't tell Arya, but I like Rhaenys better than Visenya and Rhaenyra," Rhaella smiled. Now Jon could only see Daenerys in her features.

"I won't," he chuckled.

"Thank you for releasing Daenera," Rhaella said sleepily. Her eyelids fluttered before finally closing. "She's happy to be free."

Guilt crept down his stomach and he nodded. He caressed her cheek when she closed her eyes, and smiled sadly, "Sweet dreams." _My little Princess,_ he thought.

...

Yara gave her sword and all of her hidden daggers to a Meereenese soldier before walking up to the stone throne. Even though Daenerys never said anything, her eyes always nervously flitted to the blades. She liked seeing her Queen relaxed, so she opted to forego them in her presence.

It was surreal seeing Daenerys return to Dragonstone after she had been gone for over a decade. Drogon was massive, but she looked nearly the same. The years had been kind to her, unlike everything else she had been through. If Yara had been more emotionally sensitive, she would have burst into tears upon bending the knee to Daenerys once again. She would have liked to have a reason to wipe the smug face off of Quentyn Martell if he laughed at her.

Several Unsullied were lined up on the steps leading to the throne, and Greyworm and Kinvara were standing protectively on the platform. Daenerys was seated on her throne in a crimson gown, and Yara would have smiled seductively if it wasn't evident that the Queen had been crying. Daenerys had traded her rough cotton and spun silk garments for the dragon gowns of her past, trying to be the confident and formidable woman she had been in her previous life. 

"Your grace," Yara said bowing her head. "Lord Davos sent a raven." 

Daenerys gripped the stone armrests as Greyworm went to her side, and Yara walked up the steps to get to her. She held out the letter, and Daenerys' hand shook as she took it. After scanning its contents, Daenerys stood up. Tears of rage pooled in her eyes as she got confirmation of what Kinvara saw in the flames; Rhaella was sick. 

"Daenerys," Yara said grabbing her arms, trying to bring her back to reality instead of being trapped in her tortured mind. "Daenerys, look at me. The little girl who bravely faced all of her mother's enemies in one room will pull through. She is a fighter."

"What does Jon Snow know of taking care of a child, let alone a sick one? I've been with her through every fever and illness, but now she is sick and alone in the North," Daenerys raged. Her baby needed her.

"Samwell Tarly may be an unqualified dolt of a Grand Maester, but he is competent enough," Yara shrugged. "I'll tell Davos to keep us updated if her condition worsens."

Daenerys looked at Kinvara who nodded. The Red Priestess was using magic to prohibit Bran Stark from seeing them. "Our men will sail for the North immediately. I am done waiting for Jon Snow to come to the senses he doesn't have."

"I thought you would never give the order," Yara said as she bowed her head with a smirk. "I assume we are sticking to the original plan, your grace?"

"Yes," Daenerys said. She hoped Bran Stark would be too interested in her to notice that most of her armies were heading North without her. She wanted to ambush them completely. Either way she was going to catch them unprepared. "Tell Quentyn Martell to prepare for the cold."

"Oh, he's been waiting for the moment to declare Dorne's independence, since the day the Starks and Tyrion Lannister insisted the bastard should be king," Yara said. "We've been ready for months."

"Good," Daenerys said. "Kinvara will consult the flames to track your progress."

"What is dead may never die," Yara said taking Daenerys' forearm. "But rises again harder and stronger." Daenerys smiled at her words, and Yara quickly snatched a silver curl and twirled it in her fingers. "When all this is over, if Rhaella would prefer another mother after being subjected to the bastard, perhaps I'll reconsider my dislike for children."

For the first time in a while, Daenerys laughed, "Perhaps I'll consult her opinion on the matter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If everything goes according to plan, Daenerys will come to Winterfell in the next chapter. So now is your chance to put in suggestions for Rhaella x Daenerys scenes!
> 
> Update on my life: I got a job!!!!!!!! I'm really nervous to start next week though... I moved and had some issues, I made it through Boatsex Remembrance Day and now what I call random bouts of "Dany Depression," my birthday was on the 28th, and my sister came home for the holiday weekend, so I've been crazy busy.


	12. The Dragon Came With Fire and Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is: the hardest chapter I've ever written. Basically it's the length of two of my longer chapters. 
> 
> I am eagerly awaiting your comments, the good and the bad, to know what you all think.

The soldiers of the Vale and a few dozen men from the West came to Winterfell next, as Daenerys' army made their descent from Dragonstone to the North, unknown to Bran's watchful eyes. With every new wave of soldiers that poured into the gates, Rhaella's invisible chains tightened around her neck.

It started with the employment of a nanny, a nasty woman who was supposed to keep an eye on her, while Jon, Arya, Gendry, and Davos were too busy with preparations of war. The woman forced her to wear black gowns embroidered with the Stark sigil and wove direwolf shaped pins so tightly in her hair that she couldn't pull them out on her own. To make matters worse, the woman tried to force her to act like a lady. Rhaella was promptly scolded when she voiced her thoughts aloud about how stupid it was that Jon used the Stark sigil, when he was formally referred to as Aegon VI "Jon" Targaryen. The nanny told her ladies should be seen and not heard, to which she replied that girls could do whatever they wanted when she was Queen, and the woman would do well to remember that.

Unfortunately, Princess Rhaella still had to follow Jon's restrictive rules. She wasn't allowed to go anywhere unless he deemed it to be safe. When Jon made time to spend time with her, she didn't know what to say to him. Rhaella didn't want to tell him that she was eagerly waiting for the day Daenerys came to take her home. He never said anything regarding her refusal to cooperate with the nanny, even though she knew the woman complained about her.

To make matters worse, Rhaella had to send Daenera away. The soldiers were afraid of the dragon, and they were especially weary when she lounged on the watch towers. Rhaella thought about escaping on Daenera many times, but Bran always gave her a knowing look that gave her goosebumps, almost as if he was willing her to see what happened if she tried to leave. She didn't think the scorpions would be able to severely wound Drogon, but they could definitely kill Daenera. She couldn't picture a life without the other part of her soul, so with a heavy sigh and many tears, she forced her dragon to fly to Daenerys without her.

She stood on the ramparts for hours after Daenera flew away and looked towards the southern horizon. Soldiers nodded and bowed as they walked past, but she paid them no attention. She only acknowledged the gaggle of handmaidens when they ushered her inside with promises of sweets, a warm bath, and reading a few chapters of the Aegon's Conquest book before bed. Rhaella had waited weeks to go home, she could handle waiting a bit longer.

...

At Dragonstone, Daenerys took a deep breath after Greyworm handed her the dagger that Jon Snow had used to end her life. It wasn't much extra protection, but it gave her a piece of mind that she wouldn't be defenseless against him again. She could do nothing besides nod in thanks as he squeezed her hand, the hard lines of his lips crinkling into a smile. 

He loved her. She could see it in his eyes, and she loved him, too. They had grown to care for each other more throughout the years, but neither one of them could let go of their lost loves. He loved Rhaella if she was his own, and that was more than enough for Daenerys. Just his presence alone comforted her in ways that she couldn't describe.

"It's time my Queen," Kinvara said as she watched the flames roar in the fireplace. The Red Priestess was also a woman that Daenerys had come to care for a great deal. "Your army should be at Winterfell by nightfall."

Daenerys' heart lit up with anxious joy. She didn't want to go to the North, but Rhaella would be in her arms by morning.  
...

Bran's eyes shot open, "Daenerys' army, they'll be here within a day."

"How long do you think we have before they strike?" Arya asked as everyone seated at the small council table grumbled in fear. Arya sighed, knowing that she would have to ask the question everyone wanted to know, "Where is Daenerys?"

"She's not with them, but I cannot see her," Bran said. Edmure Tully and some of the other Lords that offered assistance started shouting amongst themselves.

"Send an envoy under a banner of truce. I want a parlay," Jon said as he hit the table to get everyone to quiet down. "Until a message is brought back, we will start evacuating the castle."

No one knew that Daenerys Targaryen was planning on attacking that night.  
...

Ghost whimpered when Rhaella woke up with a start as the castle rumbled. People were screaming, and she could hear the soldiers moving through the hallways. She swallowed her nervousness and pushed away the furs, wanting to see what was happening outside. Ghost caught the back skirt of her nightgown in his mouth as she slid off the bed and gently tugged her towards him.

"It's okay," Rhaella whispered to the concerned direwolf. She scratched behind his good ear and patted him on the head. "You're a good boy, but you have to let me go."

Ghost abruptly let go and jumped off the bed, startling Rhaella. He stood protectively in front of her, and growled at the window. The room was suddenly lit up by an orange glow coming from outside, and Rhaella could hear the faint screeches of a dragon.

"Rhaella," Jon breathed a sigh of relief as her door slammed open, and he came inside. He was wearing a heavily padded gambeson and his direwolf engraved gorget. A bloody Arya hung back in the hallway as she wiped off her sword. When she ran off to go fight again Rhaella's mouth went dry. Jon looked as if he was going to say something, but was cut off by another screech.

"He is still far away," Rhaella murmured when Jon whipped his head towards the window. She picked a loose thread at the bottom of her nightgown as the room flashed orange again.

"Who?" Jon asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Drogon," Rhaella said with certainty. Even if it was less obvious, she knew all of the dragon's calls.

"That can't be," Jon whispered to himself. He couldn't see much besides an orange glow and smoke outside. Drogon had to be close if the fire was that bright.

"He's crying out for me," Rhaella said swallowing a lump in her throat. "You will know when he is close; it's perhaps the loudest noise you'll ever hear in your life. I've never seen him breathe fire in full blast, but I'm sure it is terrifying."

She went and sat down on the bed, and Ghost curled up protectively at her feet. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she looked away from him, "You can still stop this."

Jon knelt down in front of her and put his hand on her thigh, "I can't. Daenerys wouldn't meet with me." His envoy had been sent back, barely escaping with his life to tell Jon that the next person he sent wouldn't be so lucky.

"You can. Jon, you have to let me go," Rhaella cried. "I don't want to stay here." She didn't want to watch everyone burn.

"I love you," Jon said as his eyes pooled with tears. A strangled screech, different from the previous ones, echoed throughout the room. "You are the only good thing in my life."

"I know, I do, but you have to find something else. Drogon knows where I'm at now, and he's coming," Rhaella said seeing the fear and uncertainty in his eyes. "You don't have to be afraid. It will be okay." 

"It won't," Jon closed his eyes and sighed. His life hadn't been worth living, until she fell into it. The room flashed orange again, and it was brighter this time, "It's too late."

"It will," Rhaella leaned forward and desperately cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "It's never too late to do the right thing. Please, I'm begging you. Don't do this. I don't want my coin to fall the wrong way."

"It won't," Jon whispered. "Sansa is wrong."

"You know that's not true," Rhaella murmured. They were all condemned by the coin toss, which spun until the choice was made. Hers had already teetered when she nearly killed Jon.

"I know that yours landed on greatness, since the moment you took your first breath," Jon said certainly. She was a miracle twice over.

Jon was lost in her watery purple eyes for a moment as a memory of the past flashed in his mind.

_Even if the truth destroys us?_

_It won't._

_It will. I've never begged for anything, but I'm begging you. Don't do this. Please._

The vision of Dany's devastated face faded, and he was left to gaze at Rhaella's equally sad one. Something broke inside him, and his fear and sadness dissipated. He didn't want to let her go, but he wouldn't let this end in tragedy, not like him and Dany, "Okay."

"Okay?" Rhaella asked in confusion. Jon smiled sadly and nodded, gently squeezing her thigh in reassurance. She smiled hopefully, "Really? You'll let me go with Mother? Do you mean it, truly?"

"Will that make you happy?" Jon asked. He remembered what Davos had said; knowing that she was alive and happy would have to be enough. Holding onto her wouldn't make her love him or want to stay.

"Yes," Rhaella said, biting her lip to try to hold back her elated smile. She squeezed his cheeks excitedly, before sheepishly folding her hands in her lap.

"Aye, I mean it, truly," Jon whispered with a sad smile. He knew that her happiness was more important than his own. "I said I would choose your wellbeing over anything else, and I intend to keep that promise." 

Rhaella smiled. Ghost whimpered and put his head on her lap, trying to nudge Jon's hand off her leg. She giggled when he licked her fingers as she went to pet him. "He'll miss you," Jon said. "He likes the attention."

Ghost snorted when Rhaella playfully tapped him on the nose, "I will miss you, too," she said stroking his head, "But I have four needy dragons, who have been deprived of my attention." Ghost whined, and Jon looked as if he wanted to ask about the dragons. Rhaella decided to elaborate when Drogon screeched again, "Missandys is the sweetest, Jorion is the most playful, and Daenera is the most confident. Drogon is their real mother, but I hatched them in a fire after they had been sitting unhatched for years. Mother gave me the eggs on my tenth Nameday; they were hidden in a chest filled with her only belongings from when she was the Dragon Queen. Mother let Greyworm tell me stories about her, but never anything beyond her freeing the slaves and supplying everything for the Battle of Winterfell." Jon looked guilty, but Rhaella smiled. She was lost in thought, "I think my dragons like her more then me."

"I'm sure that's not true," Jon said.

Rhaella shrugged indifferently, turning her attention to Jon. She didn't blame them even if they favored Daenerys, "Mother never really said anything about you, even when I begged her to tell me anything. But that day she told me your name was Aegon Targaryen, Jon Snow, and that you killed us... I don't remember what it felt like to die, my brain probably wasn't fully developed, but Mother did. You killed her when she thought you were going to choose her. I hated you. I wanted you to burn."

"Rhaella, I'm-" Jon began, but Rhaella cut him off.

"I wish you didn't do it." Rhaella choked. Fat tears slid down her cheeks, and she tried to wipe them away, but it was no use. "I wish... I wish everything was different, but you killed my mother. I love her more than anything in the world."

"I know. I wish I could take it back," Jon murmured as the room flashed neon orange, and he winced. Rhaella glanced at the window, and Jon knew that this was the last few moments he had with her. His voice cracked, "Maybe we can both forget for a moment. I-I want to hold you before you go."

Rhaella hesitated, and Jon pleaded with his eyes. She looked at him and swallowed painfully. She wouldn't let him hold her for his benefit, only hers. Daenerys made sure she wanted for nothing, except for a father's love. For one moment, she would allow herself to have the only thing she had ever been denied, "Okay." 

Jon stood up from the place where he knelt and easily lifted her into his arms. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks when her arms went around his neck and her head rested on his shoulder. He kissed the crown of her silver curls and rocked her back and forth, humming a lullaby that he had long since forgotten the words. His hand gently cradled the back of her head when she could no longer hold in her quiet sobs.

Jon closed his eyes and breathed in the lavender scent of her hair trying to commit it to memory. Arya told him the story of the lemon tree, and how she favored lavender bath oils like Dany. Her hair was currently a curtain of untamed curls, frizzy from sleep. His lips twitched into a sad smile; it was unfortunate for a girl child to be cursed with his unruly hair. Daenerys probably helped her maintain it and never complained. Rhaella and Dany should have been his future, but he had thrown it all away for nothing. He wished that he had helped raise her from infancy; that he could hug her without asking first or her initiating contact. He wanted to hold her longer than a few minutes where they both tried to ignore that he stabbed Dany.

The castle shook with a flash of orange and red light. The sound of stone crumbling broke him out of his reverie, and Jon held her tighter. He shielded her with his body as the window blew out and shattered with an angry roar of a dragon.

"I prayed to the Gods every night for a year that they would grant me one moment to hold you in my arms," Jon said quickly, rocking her one last time. He kissed the top of her head and choked back a sob. "I love you, Rhaella. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I-I don't hate you," Rhaella said clinging to his neck. She smirked sadly; Jon still murdered her mother, "Well not as much anyway." 

Drogon roared, and Jon reluctantly put her down as the room started filling with smoke. The castle shook, and he quickly went to the wardrobe and rummaged until he found the gambeson and pants Alys Karstark made her. "Put this on, hurry."

Jon went out into the hallway to tell everyone that he was surrendering as she hurriedly slipped the pants on and threw her nightgown off. She would have no use for it in Essos, but she liked that one; it was lined in soft rabbit fur. The servants had always tied the laces and buckled her gambeson, but as she looked in the vanity mirror, she thought she did it right. A sparkle caught her eye, and she looked down to see her tiara. _Rhaella Missandei of House Targaryen, First of her name..._ another thing that had been part of the birthright she never got to have. But that was okay. A title and a crown was nothing compared to a mother's love and her home across the sea. Still, she grabbed it and stuffed it in her gambeson, hoping that it wouldn't break. Drogon roared again, and she sighed in contentment.

When she opened the door Jon, Davos, Gendry, and Tormund were sitting in front of the loft's fireplace listening to Podrick sing. Bran's eyes were rolled back in his head, which would do no good, since Daenerys was already here. 

"Dragonpup," Tormund bellowed, motioning her over with a laugh. "Come sit with us while we wait for the end."

"Arya is watching for Daenerys on the ramparts," Gendry said as Rhaella came over to them. "When she is close enough, we'll go up and try to get her attention."

"Davos says bells don't mean surrender, so we've got this white flag instead," Tormund bellowed as he pointed to the flag and drank deeply from his horn. Rhaella didn't think her mother would notice it, let alone think it meant that they were surrendering, but she smiled back at him anyway as she took a seat in the empty chair.

"In my experience they don't," Davos said grimly. Jon didn't say anything and continued to brood in front of the fireplace.

"Sing the one you sang while we were waiting for those dead fuckers to come," Tormund said to Podrick as a tense silence thickened throughout the room. Jon shot him an irritated look, and he smiled sheepishly at Rhaella. "Sorry Dragonpup. King Crow is no fun."

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone_  
_Jenny would dance with her ghosts..._

Rhaella smiled in awe at his beautiful voice. No one could sing like that back home. Her mother had a decent voice, but it wasn't as good, and the Dothraki chanted more than they sang. She wondered who Jenny was.

_The ones she had lost and the ones she had found_  
_And the ones who had loved her the most..._

"Dance with me," Rhaella stood up and offered her hand to Gendry with a mischievous smile. He chuckled and took her hand, eyes downcast in embarrassment.

_The ones who'd been gone for so very long_  
_She couldn't remember their names..._

The traditional Dothraki dance style didn't really seem appropriate for the song, so she swung Gendry's arms and skipped about as he swayed with her. Davos grinned as Tormund laughed, and Podrick continued to sing with a smile. Even the corners of Jon's lips twitched into a smile as he tried to ignore his feelings of jealousy.

"If the big woman was here, I would ask her to dance," Tormund said. No one paid him any attention.

_They spun her around on the damp old stones_  
_Spun away all her sorrow and pain..._

"Twirl me!" Rhaella said giggling. Gendry spun her around like the words in the song, "Again!"

Rhaella caught Jon's eye as Gendry twirled her again, and she smiled shyly before looking away. Perhaps he was Jenny, and Rhaella was his ghost. He knew he didn't want this moment to end.

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_  
_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave..._

Jon's blood ran cold as he saw Arya watching from the hall. She wiped the ash and blood off her face with her sleeve and smirked at Gendry and Rhaella. Before she had even locked eyes with him to signal it was time to go, Podrick stopped singing as the castle shook with a rumbling roar. They could hear blasted stone crumble around them as dust fell from the ceiling.

"Jon, it's time," Arya said grimly.

"I will miss you, your grace," Gendry smiled, squeezing her hand. He knelt down to her eye level and winked, "I'll plant that lemon tree in your name, and if you ever want to visit Storm's End, you and your mother will be welcome to." Arya rolled her eyes at his sappy words.

"Thank you," Rhaella said and hugged him. She would miss him most of all. He had offered to help her before anyone else.

"Your grace", Davos bowed, "It was a pleasure meeting you." Rhaella hugged him before he could say another word. He would miss the girl who quickly became like a granddaughter to him. 

"Dragonpup," Tormund said lifting her up. He hugged her tightly, and she smiled this time. She would miss the funny Wildling. "Tell the Dragon Queen to burn the other half of the castle." Rhaella chuckled as he ruffled her hair and set her back down. 

"Rhaella," Jon croaked as she made her way towards him, "Tell Dany, I'm sorry for everything. I shouldn't have kept you from her for so long. I thought that we would be able to work things out if you were happy here. But you're not, and that's all right." He pulled out her Valyrian steel dagger from a sheath on his belt and held it out. "I should probably give this back."

She took it back and smiled meekly.

"Jon!" Arya protested as the castle shook again.

"Stay close," Jon told Rhaella. He didn't know what the situation outside was like. Gendry and Tormund stood at her sides, while Arya took the back. She would be protected on all sides as they made their way up to the ramparts.

Jon had to do a double take as his stomach sank in dread. The fields around the castle burned like a flaming ocean, and the smoke clouded everything in a billowing fog. The walls which housed the scorpions were crumbled and burning, and he hoped that any of the servants who decided to stay were not in that area of the castle. The remaining archers were huddled in the corners, hoping the dragon wouldn't swoop down again. Jon wondered if there were any survivors left on the blazing field.

Jon unsheathed Longclaw as Arya split her spear into two. She pointed them at the soldiers, warning them not to get in their way or cause trouble. Some nodded at Jon as they walked past, but most of them just stared in horror at the flames.

"Your grace," Ser Brienne called, spotting Jon. Blood dripped from her nose, and her armor seemed to have melted in a few places from the heat, "What is left of the army has fallen back and are behind the castle's walls. Once she notices, they may distract her for a while. You need to go now!"

Perhaps he should have left when her battle commanders said there would be no negotiations, only surrender or fire and blood. Perhaps he should have surrendered right then and there to save his men and his castle, but in truth, he never cared much for the Riverlands and Vale soldiers. He was ready to face Daenerys with his words and nothing else; it was only Tyrion and Sansa's scheming that brought everyone else into the fray. Let Daenerys finish him and everyone else off for all he cared; he had nothing else left without his daughter anyway. 

Still, he was the King, despite the bitter taste it left in his mouth, and he would do the right thing for Rhaella and his people, "No, I have to end what Bran and I started. Where is she?"

"I don't know, your grace," Brienne whispered, eyes widening in horror as she looked down into the yard where the remaining soldiers retreated. Daenerys' soldiers had managed to scale the walls and slip in between piles of rubble without being seen. 

"Tell everyone that we're surrendering!" Jon shouted to Brienne. "Tell them to drop their weapons. Appeal to the Dornish and Ironborn soldiers." Brienne grimaced before nodding, and making her leave down a partially hidden stairway.

"Fuck," Arya muttered as she saw Yara Greyjoy climb up the wall proudly. Luckily, she was too busy watching the chaos unfold down below to notice them on the other side of the ramparts. 

Soon war cries, screams, and clanging of metal pierced through the air as thunder clapped in the sky. The last wave of soldiers who were manning the walls as well as the archers ran past them to stop the breach. _Daenerys where are you?_ Jon wondered frantically as her soldiers kept pouring in. Instead of going straight down the stairs or scaling the wall down to the yard, they began fighting off his men that tried to stop them from climbing up. He hoped they would hold them off as he looked over to Rhaella. _Come on Dany._

Arya looked ready to kill as it seemed like Dany's soldiers were going to overwhelm theirs, and Yara Greyjoy's eyes landed on his. She shouted something, and her men were now focused on him. Hopefully, Yara would tell her men to stand down if she noticed Rhaella was with them. If not, then he feared his daughter's boots would squelch in their pools of blood. Tormund handed the flag to Gendry as he and Arya held up their weapons at the enemy soldiers who had gotten past theirs.

Arya ran into the fray head on, stabbing Daenerys' men left and right. Jon quickly lost sight of her as men with black and crimson armor swarmed in, all focusing on killing him. A man charged, shouting in a dialect of Valyrian, and Jon held up Longclaw in retaliation. It had been a long time since he had been in a real battle, but it seemed as if he had been at War this whole time.

Rhaella screamed when blood sprayed out of the man after he withdrew Longclaw from his throat. Jon winced at her terrified expression as she cowered behind Gendry, but he had to focus on another soldier. No one would listen to his pleas of surrender.

"No, don't!" She cried hysterically as Jon dueled an Unsullied soldier. The thunder, screams, and clashing of steel drowned out her cries, and the man fell as Jon cut through him. She didn't recognize the man, but he was part of her family all the same. Rhaella, overcome with sobs, barely registered that Gendry had pulled her around the tower, shielding her from the fighting for a few moments. She squeezed her eyes shut, and pleaded for Drogon to rescue her, while Gendry fell into a protective stance, holding up his war hammer, the white flag forgotten.

The thunder rumbled again consistently, and Rhaella opened her eyes and scanned the sky with a hopeful expression. "There," Rhaella pointed into the distance. 

"That's just the thunder," Gendry said praying that the fighting wouldn't reach their hiding spot until after Daenerys came. There wasn't anything easily discernible beyond the billowing smoke.

She pushed past him and walked up to the railing, to Gendry's protest. Jon was fighting an Ironborn soldier, but she didn't pay him any attention as she focused on the sky, "That's not thunder," she smiled as a monstrous shadow darkened the fiery horizon, "It's the sound of dragon wings."

For a moment, all the fighting stopped as Drogon sliced through the fog with an enraged screech. The dragon was at least twice the size he had been on the day he razed Kings Landing, and if Gendry believed he was on Daenerys' list, he would have pissed himself. Time froze for Jon as he gazed up at the great beast. Perhaps he should have been scared, but his mind was only focused on finding Daenerys among the giant spikes. He saw Rhaella smile excitedly at the dragon, and he tore his eyes away as his stomach filled with guilt and dread.

"Mother! Mai! Muña!" Rhaella shouted, saying the various terms for mother to get Daenerys' attention. Drogon flew straight towards her and turned, so Dany would be able to see her.

Jon nearly got stabbed in the back as he stood frozen in a trance when he finally laid eyes on Daenerys and the two people seated behind her for the first time since he murdered her. One was Greyworm, and the other was a Red Priestess, perhaps the one who brought her and Rhaella back from the dead. Dany's silver hair was braided into a similar, yet different, style that she wore when she took over Kings Landing. The leather dress and silk scarves were replaced with black armor as smooth and sleek as obsidian, encrusted with rubies that formed the Targaryen dragon sigil. Only the tearful look of hopeful joy was left of the Dany he knew as her eyes locked on Rhaella. Jon's eyes swam with tears as their child held out her arms and called out for her. Unfortunately, he had to focus on the soldier who tried to kill him.

"Mother!" Rhaella cried again.

Once Daenerys' eyes caught the flash of her daughter's silver hair, nothing else mattered. She was vaguely aware that Gendry was protectively hovering behind Rhaella, but she didn't care enough to look around for Jon or any other of his traitorous allies. Perhaps she would reward the Baratheon boy, undeniably a man now, with silks and spices from Meereen for protecting her child. He was one of the few good Lords left from what Yara had told her about Westeros, and it was her who had raised his station. Perhaps in another life, Westeros would have been filled with kind Lords and Ladies of her choosing, but it would do no good to dwell on past dreams of a better world. No- she had to rescue her baby.

Drogon swooped down lower, and Daenerys held her hand out to Rhaella desperately. She tried to take her mother's hand, but she was still too far to be able to reach it due to Drogon's girth. Unless they risked Drogon smashing into the castle, climbing up the stone parapet was her only option. She bit her lip and looked at the wall's ledge; she wished that she trusted Bran enough to keep his promise, so she didn't have to send Daenera away. "I'm scared," Rhaella said as her lip trembled. She didn't know if she was more afraid of falling or the fighting and chaos going on around her.

"I know, sweetling. Look at me," Daenerys said trying to get her to ignore everything else. "You're so brave my little dragon. I promise that you won't fall."

Rhaella tried to suck in her tears as she looked back at Gendry who nodded at her to leave. She turned and saw Tormund's fiery hair and Arya's head bobbing up and down as she fought through the swarm of Targaryen soldiers. Her eyes even caught Jon before she quickly looked back to her mother. It would be the last time that she would see all of them, perhaps ever again. "Okay," she whispered, eyes never leaving her mother as she hoisted herself onto the parapet. 

"Ȳdra daor limagon, zaldrītsos. Muña iksis kesīr... _Don't cry, little dragon. Mother is here."_ Daenerys said soothingly as Rhaella climbed onto the wall and hesitantly reached for her.

"We will catch you, little princess," Greyworm said from behind Daenerys. Rhaella lowered her hand as she stood up slowly, trying not to wobble or lose her footing.

Daenerys held out her hand again with a desperate, yet hopeful expression as Rhaella slowly brought her hand up to reach hers. When their fingers met they both smiled happily, and Rhaella let out a contented sigh. She would finally get to go home.

The spell was broken as Jon screamed, "Stand down!" to his soldiers. An archer loosed an arrow and it flew over Daenerys' head. "Stop, I surrender! Dany, watch out!"

Gendry grabbed Rhaella's waist and pulled her off the wall as another couple of arrows whizzed in the spot where she had stood on the parapets. The momentum knocked Gendry off his feet, and Rhaella fell back on top of him. She rolled onto her stomach and looked up, praying her mother wasn't hit as Drogon screeched angrily. Rhaella's stomach dropped as she realized her mother was frozen in fear, staring at Jon.

Daenerys couldn't breathe. An overwhelming sense of terror clawed up her neck when she saw Jon, and her scar burned. She lost all awareness of her surroundings as Drogon rose higher in the air, her body too numb to realize her dragon was now completely in control. He lunged at the archers, letting out a torrent of flame that completely destroyed the castle beneath them. The pain under her left breast became so unbearable that black dots clouded her vision, and she couldn't hear the intensified screams from the soldiers and crumbling walls. 

Drogon, so distraught over his mother's pain and his sister's cries, shrieked murderously. Drogon flew around to the opposite side and started attacking the castle rather than the measly amount of soldiers the enemy had left. Mother had bad memories of Winterfell and Sister had been trapped there. He thrashed his tail and knocked down towers, and his flames destroyed the rest.

Greyworm had slid off Drogon and onto the ramparts before he took flight. His eyes caught a flash of silver, as Gendry Baratheon dragged Rhaella away from the cracking stone, and Jon Snow frantically ran towards them. Anger clouded his vision as the traitor cupped Rhaella's cheeks and brushed the tears and ash away as if he actually cared about the child he murdered. "Mīsagon se dārilaros. Se nādrēsy iksis ñuhon... _Protect the princess. The bastard is mine,"_ Greyworm shouted at his approaching comrades. Jon Snow barely managed to turn around before Greyworm lunged to strike, "Syt Daenerys Targaryen!"

"Stop! Keligon!" Rhaella shouted as the two of them clashed blades. Jon faltered at Rhaella's pleas, taking a defensive position as Greyworm snarled and fought to kill. "Stop it, both of you!" They couldn't hear her over Drogon's shrieks and fire blasts.

"I've surrendered," Jon spat as Greyworm managed to slice his gambeson. Surrendering never meant much to Greyworm and his forces in the past, but he hoped the man would put aside his pride for Rhaella. "Take my daughter to Daenerys, so we can end this."

"It ends when bastard King dies," Greyworm shouted as he charged. Their blades danced, and both of them matched each strike, until Greyworm's Unsullied training started to overpower Jon. Rhaella screamed, but neither one paid her any attention. Jon was too busy trying not to die, and Greyworm was in the mindset to kill. Daenerys' Master of War spun around and fought until he had Jon backed into a corner. Jon breathed heavily, and closed his eyes in defeat when Greyworm's spear went to his neck. He was glad that he would die knowing his beautiful baby girl and Dany were going to live- hopefully long, happy lives together after he had taken that away from them.

"Torgo Nudho!" Rhaella shouted, breaking Greyworm out of his bloodlust induced reverie. He didn't ease up on Jon, but his snarl softened into a disappointed frown. "Let him go."

"He killed Daenerys. This one will deliver justice," Greyworm said. "He took your life, and then he stole you from us."

"If Mother wants justice, that is her decision to make, not yours," Rhaella said. She didn't meet Jon's eyes, even though she knew he was staring at her with a mixture of shock and gratitude. She looked in the direction of Drogon's rampage, her hair wild and blowing in the hot gusts of ash filled wind, and she felt nothing. Winterfell was set alight with dragon flames, and she just wanted to get to her mother, so they could leave, "Take me to her. I want to go home."

Greyworm glared at Jon before lowering his spear. "Next time you won't be so lucky," he growled before backing away. He protectively put his arm around Rhaella, and led her away from the traitor, some of his men circling around them to act as a barrier. As much as Rhaella was glad to see Greyworm, she was more concerned with Drogon throwing a tantrum, while her mother was battling her inner demons.

"Drogon! Mother!" She called, the tears returning to her eyes. _Please, please get us. I want to go home!_ Drogon's head whipped in Rhaella's direction, and his frills ruffled as he roared. "Mother!"

Her daughter's calls snapped Daenerys out of her fear induced trance, and she stared at the carnage under her in disbelief. She lost control for a few minutes, and half of Winterfell was virtually destroyed; at least this time the castle was the focus of Drogon's fury. The scar still throbbed with every beat of her heart, but she tried to think of Rhaella, not destructive memories of Jon Snow. _Rhaella giggling in her cradle when she kissed her chubby belly and tickled her tiny feet... little Rhaella running through the fields, silver curls wild, as Drogon lazily flew above her... Rhaella's smile whenever she walked into the room, and the joy she felt when Rhaella called her mother..._ Daenerys felt Drogon's emotions change as he flapped his wings and jolted upward to take flight. Determination to save Rhaella burned through their shared connection, and the dragon's rage was momentarily soothed by happy thoughts of little Sister in Mother's arms again. Daenerys clung to his thoughts and let them fill her with warmth; she didn't care about Jon Snow, only her baby.

"Mama!" Rhaella shouted, waving her arms around. Daenerys only saw Rhaella and Greyworm when Drogon landed on a tower next to them, not Jon's fleeing soldiers nor her own standing reverantly awaiting her command. She didn't see Arya Stark's passive expression as the young woman gazed up at her nor Tormund's awestruck grin. She didn't see Jon failing to hold in his tears as he looked from Rhaella to her, the woman he regretted murdering with all that was left of his heart. She didn't even notice the tower crumbling beneath Drogon's weight, not that it truly mattered anyway. Rhaella hadn't called her Mama since she was still toddling around in nappies.

"I'm here," Daenerys murmured, tears pooling in her eyes as Rhaella beamed up at her. Perhaps Rhaella didn't hate her after all. 

Drogon chirped happily in response, lowering his massive shoulder down to his little sister, and Greyworm quickly lifted her up to the beckoning dragon. His eyes scanned the immediate area for any danger as Rhaella took one of Drogon's spikes and began to climb up his side, eagerly awaiting Daenerys' outstretched arms. He glared at Jon Snow as the man fought his way through the sea of black and crimson armor towards them, but he quickly looked towards Rhaella. She squeaked when her foot slipped off of one of of Drogon's spikes, and the dragon whipped his head around to help her up. He nudged her bottom with his snout, until she successfully regained her footing. Greyworm's mouth twitched into a smile, and Jon looked at the dragon, whose jaws were too close to his daughter, with terror in his eyes.

"Mother!" Rhaella cried, as she finally made it to Drogon's back. She reached for Daenerys frantically with a grin that was nearly enough to stop her mother's heart.

Daenerys pulled her into her arms as soon as she was able to reach her and closed her eyes, trying not to burst into tears. Her fingers went through Rhaella's tangled hair as she held her as close as she dared; she didn't want to crush her daughter against her armor. Rhaella snuggled into her neck, smiling contentedly, and all of Daenerys' many worries slipped away for a moment. Drogon began to purr, and it was almost as if the world wasn't burning around them. It was just her and her baby like it had always been. 

Daenerys felt Rhaella's hand go to her cheek, and she opened her eyes. She drank in her daughter's identical lilac eyes, pouty lips, and rosy cheeks still plump with childlike softness as she caressed the side of her face. Her daughter looked like a warrior princess, so beautiful in Targaryen crimson and black. Daenerys smiled sadly; what a sight they were. They were the last dragons, the last ones that mattered anyway, and no one in Westeros would ever look at them with anything but fear and hatred.

"I missed you," Rhaella murmured. Her hand went to her mother's elaborately braided hair, and she traced the woven lines. Daenerys looked so different that she wondered if Arya would think her mother looked like Visenya; if she had been less _Arya_ there would have been no question. "I want to go home."

Daenerys kissed her forehead, sad thoughts forgotten for a moment, "Soon, my little dragon." She wondered if Rhaella would like Dragonstone and Meereen as much as she liked their house with the red door and lemon tree. They would stop at Dragonstone to rest for some time before heading back to Braavos, and it would be nice to take her to their ancestral home even though the memory of all Daenerys had lost was encoded in its walls. She reasoned with herself that home was any place where they were both together anyhow.

The moment was broken when Rhaella jumped in her arms as Drogon let out a blood curdling wail and ruffled his frills in anger. It didn't take long for her to realize that Jon Snow was the source of his enraged lament. A part of her knew that Drogon blamed himself for not protecting her, for accepting Jon as her mate too soon and believing that he would never harm her. Her scar began to throb again as her once lover faced her dragon, tightly holding his sword with both hands; still the same brave and reckless idiot it would seem.

"Mama?" Rhaella crooned, as Daenerys' mind was beginning to shut down again, this time with chants of _Dracarys_ and thoughts of finishing Jon off for good. She felt as if she was hearing the bells again, until Rhaella cupped her cheek, and smiled sadly, "Let's go home." Drogon had his neck poised to strike and bared his sword like teeth, as Daenerys eyed Jon again in a daze. It would be too easy to say the word and watch him and what was left of his castle melt into ash. It was what he deserved for putting her through so much pain. 

"Please," Rhaella murmured as she squeezed her hand again. She turned to look at Jon for a moment before looking back to Daenerys knowingly, "It won't take the hurt away." She knew from experience; attempting to kill Jon just made her feel guilty in the end.

"All right, let's go home," Daenerys' voice cracked. She needed to be a mother to her child, not a monster. Rhaella was visibly relieved, and she didn't know how to feel about that. For now, she chose to ignore it, and focused on helping Rhaella get into a comfortable position for take off. 

Greyworm climbed up Drogon's side quickly, already knowing her intentions to leave. He took his place behind Kinvara, who had been whispering prayers to the Lord of Light with her eyes closed the entire trip. He had always thought the Red Witch was odd, but her magic helped Daenerys, so he never said anything.

"Sōvegon!" Daenerys shouted. Drogon's wings created a gust of wind as he took off into the sky, and Jon ducked in fear. Daenerys held Rhaella's waist in iron grip until they were completely in the air. She had Drogon fly over her soldiers, before they left, "Īlva qrinuntyssy obūljarion. Ērinnon iksis īlvon se se dārilaros iksis ȳgha... _Our enemies surrendered. Victory is ours and the Princess is safe."_

Cheers broke out amongst the Targaryen troops, and the remaining Stark men sighed in relief when they were called off. The fields were still ablaze with dragon flame, and Winterfell was destroyed. No one truly knew what to do as Daenerys' soldiers retreated.

Jon watched Drogon fly south, until he soon disappeared into the smoke and darkness. He stood there for what seemed like forever, only looking away from the horizon when Arya snuck up next to him. He didn't know what to say to her, and luckily she didn't ask questions or try to pry. Instead, he gazed over his ravaged kingdom, his reward for killing Dany, and he finally felt freer than he had been in years. His heart yearned for his daughter, but most of all he just wanted a chance to speak to Daenerys.

"So what now?" Gendry spoke up from beside Arya, startling Jon.

Jon didn't know when he arrived beside her. He was too lost in thought to notice anyone else around them. He let out a sigh of despair, _So what now, indeed?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Daenerys came finally... I'm excited about that, too.
> 
> Let me know your hopes going forward!
> 
> I am @thesilvertargaryens on Tumblr, so if you want to direct message me, go ahead.


	13. Dragons with Silver Harps

They made it to Dragonstone in the early hours of the morning, and had they been anywhere else in the South, the sky would have been lit up with sunbursts of pink and orange, not dreary storm clouds and misting rain. Rhaella vaguely remembered being woken up by Daenerys and being coaxed soothingly to get off Drogon after she had been asleep for most of the ride. 

She rubbed her eyes groggily as two Dothraki handmaidens lead her through the halls and into an elaborate bathing chamber where her mother awaited. The steaming bathing pool was lined with stone dragons that spouted fountains of water out of their mouths and could have fit a dozen people. How fun it would have been to splash around with siblings in the warm water; it would have been like the times when she played in the river with the Dothraki children, only better. Rhaella sighed when the vision slipped away, knowing that it was just her and her mother, and that's all it was ever going to be.

"What are you thinking about?" Daenerys asked with a small, but worried smile, as she turned from the glass window that looked out onto the sea towards Rhaella. The window was similar to that of the Chamber of the Painted Table, extending from the ceiling to the floor, which added a feeling of tranquility to the room.

"Nothing," Rhaella murmured as she joined her mother by the window. Daenerys raised her eyebrow, but she didn't want to elaborate. Instead, she looked out to the sea and watched Daenera and Jorion dance. It didn't make her feel any happier or make the heaviness in her stomach disappear. 

Daenerys stroked her cheek before unbucking the straps on her gambeson, and Rhaella's lip trembled as the ruined garments were peeled off her. Those were the only clothes she had. "My clothes..." Rhaella sniffed as Daenerys took her in her arms. "And my hair, it's so tangled. I don't know what to do."

"Oh, sweetling, don't worry," Daenerys crooned. "I've had gowns made for you, and I will fix your hair."

Rhaella relaxed for a moment and nodded gratefully. However, she winced when her tiara clanged on the stone as her mother threw the gambeson on the floor and took her hand. If Daenerys heard it, she wasn't interested in whatever the noise was. Instead, she was more focused on checking the undersides of Rhaella's arms. She gently trailed her finger up to her shoulders and ran her fingers down past her daughter's ribs. 

"Mother?" Rhaella asked as Daenerys froze. Her gaze went to a few purple bruises on Rhaella's hip that looked like it could have been finger marks.

"Did anyone hurt you?" Daenerys asked. Her eyes flitted nervously to Rhaella's thighs, checking for more bruises and any other signs of abuse. Rhaella didn't answer and Daenerys became increasingly worried, fearing that she had been touched in places no child should ever be touched. "Rhaella, I need you to tell me."

"Sansa pulled my hair, and hit me," Rhaella murmured finally. She didn't want to think about Sansa, but her mother looked so worried. Daenerys frowned as she brushed her finger over the bruises, however, she looked more relieved than she previously did. "I think Gendry grabbed me too hard when he was saving me." She didn't know where the bruises came from, but that seemed to be a logical explanation.

"He's a good man," Daenerys said, and she truly meant it. Gendry was nothing like Robert Baratheon. She never condemned him for being the son of the man who sent assassins to murder her ever since she was a baby in her crib. It was a pity that no one in Westeros ever saw her for what she was before she was forced to become her father.

Rhaella nodded and looked hopeful for a moment, "He said we could visit Storm's End. Could we, one day?"

"Perhaps one day," Daenerys murmured, even though she had no intention of setting foot anywhere in Westeros ever again. She didn't want to completely crush Rhaella's dreams, since she was now unsure of what they consisted of. Daenerys stroked Rhaella's cheek, and looked at the bath, "Now, go on before the water gets cold."

The way the surface steamed and bubbled, it likely wouldn't be cold for a few hours, but Rhaella complied. Normally boiling baths with her mother made her feel happy and peaceful, and with it's size and depth, she actually had room to swim and play. However, not even the fountains that spouted into the bath made her smile when Daenerys untied her silk robe and let it fall to the floor. The puckered scar was partially covered by her mother's silver hair, but it still made Rhaella's mouth go dry. The sadness pooled in her belly slowly spread it's way to her heart with every descending step into the hot water until it reached just below her shoulder blades.

She was quiet when Daenerys followed in after her and gently lathered her hair with soaps and conditioners. Her mother always got the tangles out no matter how long it took without hurting her. Dany never complained about the extra maintenance it took to make her ringlet curls soft and gleaming. Rhaella thought that it must have been easy for Jon to cut his hair whenever he wanted, but she didn't want to think about him at all. 

Her lip began to tremble as Daenerys smoothed out her hair and gently brushed the knots out with her fingers. Soon weeks of sadness, anger, and fear boiled over as Rhaella burst into tears and launched herself into Daenerys' arms, "I was so afraid. I should have listened to you."

"It's all right, you're safe now," Daenerys murmured. Tears pricked her eyes as Rhaella nuzzled into her chest and cried. "I will always protect you."

"And Drogon?," Rhaella asked. "Until Daenera is bigger?" 

She ran her finger along Daenerys' scar, and a jolt of warmth shot to Dany's heart. When Rhaella did it as a toddler it unnerved her, but she had been doing it for so long, it was now a source of comfort. It reminded her that they were alive, and they were all right for the time being, "Yes, and Drogon. He will always protect you even when Daenera is bigger."

Rhaella smiled for a moment, but she let it fall as she looked up into her mother's eyes, "Viserion's skull is in the crypts at Winterfell." Rhaegal's was somewhere below them in the sea. "I wish he was in the skies flying with Drogon and the little ones; Rhaegal, too."

Daenerys assumed that Viserion's body had been carted off, desecrated, or lost after twelve years. She never expected Jon to give him a place of honor in the Stark crypts, not when he never bothered to comfort her over Rhaegal's death or even acted like he cared that his dragon was murdered. The dragons were the only children she would ever have, until she found out she was pregnant with Rhaella. 

"They are flying," Daenerys murmured wistfully. She gently brought her hand to Rhaella's heart, fully believing that Viserion was part of Rhaella. Only death paid for life, after all, "In here," she gestured to her own heart, "And in here."

Rhaella thought it wasn't fair that the people Daenerys lost and the happy visions of an alternate future were forever trapped in their hearts, "Like Missandei, Jorah, and Rhaego, your brothers, and your mother."

"Yes," Daenerys whispered. "They're in there, too."

"Do you think they would like me?" Rhaella asked as she started playing with Daenerys' hair. Sansa and Bran didn't seem to hold any affection for her, and neither did Arya at first. Perhaps her mother's family wouldn't like her either, and she needed reassurance that her thoughts were wrong.

"Missandei loved you," Daenerys said with a sad smile. "She knew about you before I did, and for a while, I didn't believe her when she said I was going to have a baby. She decided that going to Naath could wait until after you were born because she wanted to meet you," she said, sure that Rhaella would have been the apple of everyone's eye, except Viserys'. "Rhaegal would gently nudge my belly, and Drogon would get jealous and grumble until it was his turn."

Rhaella giggled, until her face turned serious. "It must have been scary to see the mountains blow in the wind like leaves," Rhaella murmured. She was glad the sun still rose in the east.

Daenerys nodded absentmindedly. She looked lost in thought for a moment as she gently poured warm water over Rhaella's head to get the soapy suds out of her hair, "I see Missandei your sweetness and Jorah when you pull me from my dark thoughts. I see Rhaego when you're with the Dothraki, I can hear Rhaegar when you sing, and I see my mother every time I look at you because you're the only reason I'm still alive... I don't deserve you. I've done terrible things."

"I love you," Rhaella crooned. She wasn't ready to talk about Kings Landing; she just wanted her mother to hold her. She brushed Daenerys' cheek with her thumb before snuggling into her chest. Rhaella closed her eyes with a sigh when her mother held her tight and rested her cheek on the top of her head, "If I was able to choose, I would still want you to be my mother," Rhaella murmured. She had done bad things too, after all.

Daenerys was glad Rhaella couldn't see the tears that tricked down her cheeks nor feel them as they plopped onto her wet hair.

...

Rhaella hoped everything would be the same when her mother rescued her, and that the comforts of normalcy would make her time in the North fade into a distant memory. However, life on Dragonstone, although better, made her more aware that her life would never go back to the way it was. She was used to soldiers trailing around her and handmaidens waiting on her at Winterfell, but she couldn't even cough without several Dothraki healers swarming around her with medicines and antidotes. Everyone called her _Princess_ in their various languages, and she only wanted to go back to being _Rhaella._

When Daenerys sat on the Dragonstone throne Rhaella barely recognized her. Her mother radiated power and a formidable confidence that she wasn't used to. Daenerys was different in front of her soldiers and guests; she wore more elaborate braids and her old dragon gowns, speaking with a voice that commanded respect. Rhaella thought it was a good different, but it was overwhelming at times, especially when Daenerys held court. _Velaryon, Dayne, Hightower, Redwyne..._ Rhaella lost track of how many people her mother spoke with as they raced to the island to obtain an audience with the Dragon Queen; the woman who rendered the Crown homeless and could save them from Jon Snow's reign of incompetence. Each of them had another stupid sigil and brought a boy who smiled awkwardly at her. Her mother shot down all talk of betrothals, and she was glad because she didn't even like boys like that.

Another part of her liked seeing all the new people and was fascinated by their tales of woe. She enjoyed sitting on her mother's lap when Daenerys sat on the stone throne and talked about politics she didn't understand. Sometimes, they would ask the princess for a song, to which she happily obliged, or she would play the silver harp Kinvara brought into the throne room. The little Velaryon boy aways clapped and begged for another, and her cheeks would turn pink. Her mother even let her play with him and the Martell girls. She also liked how the Unsullied and Dornish soldiers marched properly in lines, and the Ironborn soldiers swaggered in imperfect rows as they patrolled. But most of all, she liked how Dragonstone was brimming with life and light, a contrast to what it had been when she visited secretly with Daenera.

Even though the castle was lively, melancholic melodies echoed through the halls when Rhaella played the harp. After Kinvara's careful tutelage, she no longer fumbled on the strings or second guessed the notes. As Rhaella excelled, more often than not, Kinvara would leave to give her time to play alone in the throne room, and she took advantage of every moment where she could be herself without people hovering. However, she was never truly alone; Daenerys usually listened behind a pillar or a shadowy alcove, so she could play her complex songs without getting nervous.

_He was decent and kind... he liked to sing..._ The symbolism of the last dragon playing her harp was not lost on Daenerys. In a way, she felt proud of herself that Rhaegar's promised princess came from her womb; even if she wasn't meant to regain her birthright, she was glad she was useful in doing something that no one else could do (begrudgingly with Jon's help, but he wasn't worthy of the credit). She didn't know her brother, but she imagined that he would have doted on Rhaella; it was said that Rhaegar often prayed for girls after Aegon was born and favored Rhaenys.

The music faded away as Rhaella's fingers lazily slipped off the strings, and she stood up and smoothed her skirts. Instead of leaving, she glanced around the room before her eyes landed on the Dragonstone throne. If she knew her mother was watching her, she wouldn't have been bold enough to walk up to it. She ran her hand along the rocky ridges and wondered how the indentation of a seat came to be. However, she was more curious of what it would be like to sit on the throne by herself. Surely no one would notice if she sat on it for a few seconds.

Rhaella smiled as she took a seat and looked around. It was no wonder why her mother looked so confident while she looked down upon the entirety of the throne room- she felt like a Queen. In another life, this was what her future might have looked like... She would have filled the throne room with pretty tapestries, music, laughing children, and beaming grins. It was such a nice daydream, that she never thought about how it wasn't such a farfetched idea now that some of the Dornish and Reachmen were begging Daenerys to stay. She didn't notice her mother come out of her hiding place, as she thought about all the lovely things _Queen Rhaella_ would do.

Daenerys smiled at Rhaella's happily dazed expression as she walked up to the throne, "When I was a girl my brother told me it was made by Balerion melting a boulder and hundreds of years worth of Targaryens sitting on it to form the seat."

"Oh, Mother, I'm- I didn't mean..." Rhaella stuttered with something akin to fear in her eyes, which didn't sit right with Daenerys. She quickly hopped off the throne, and hung her head shamefully, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to try it out once. I promise I'll never do it again."

Daenerys gently lifted Rhaella's chin so she would meet her eyes. It looked as if her daughter would burst into tears at any moment, "You don't have to apologize, Rhaella."

"You're not mad?" Rhaella whispered as Daenerys hugged her worries away. She relaxed in her mother's arms, glad that she was forgiven.

Daenerys chuckled when she pulled away, and Rhaella thought she had the most beautiful laugh. "Why would I be mad? It's your throne, is it not?"

"Mine? I don't understand," Rhaella said, and she truly didn't. Daenerys was the one everyone called Queen and should be the sole occupant of the Dragonstone throne, not her, "It's yours."

"You are the Princess of Dragonstone, not me," Daenerys said, but her voice wavered at the end as she thought about how Rhaella's title came from Jon and not her. All the light died from Daenerys' eyes and her smile fell. Rhaella grabbed her hand and asked if she was all right, and she nodded even though it was a lie. The King's daughter would come before his aunt in any case. She just hoped Rhaella didn't notice the pain in her voice.

"Well, then that makes you the Queen of Dragonstone, so the throne is yours," Rhaella beamed, as Daenerys' lips twitched up into a smile. She lived to see her mother happy, and she didn't really want it anyway.

Daenerys couldn't bring herself to tell her it didn't work like that. The monarch's heir was the ruler of Dragonstone, so it rightfully belonged to Rhaella. Daenerys smirked at the fact that she had given birth to a child that would completely null and void the claim she had to any seat in Westeros, though she didn't care. She never wanted anything more than she wanted her beautiful, sweet, innocent little girl.

"Would you like to hear me play the harp, Mother?" Rhaella asked, tugging Dany's hand and breaking her out of her thoughts. "I can sing if it would please you."

"I would like that very much, sweetling," Daenerys said. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't say no to Rhaella's eagerness to play for her as the girl practically ran to the harp.

"What song shall I play for you?" Rhaella asked.

"Whichever is your favorite," Daenerys grinned. Any song Rhaella played would make her happy.

Rhaella pondered for a moment before she began to pluck the strings, "It doesn't have any words," Rhaella said as Dany listened. She couldn't place the emotion on her mother's face, but she seemed to like it, "Kinvara called it Truth."

When Rhaella finished she looked to her mother, who stood frozen. Her cheeks suddenly turned red in embarrassment, and she tried to hide the disappointment in her voice, "I-I could play a different song if you didn't like that one," she offered. "Podrick sang Jenny's song once, and Kinvara taught me the words."

"It was beautiful, Rhaella, truly," Daenerys murmured with tears pricking her eyes. For some reason, it made her think of the time when she was happy with Jon while they sailed to White Harbor. It was the first time she had ever mentioned her desire for a family, "Your unc-" she abruptly cut herself off. She had a feeling that Rhaegar would have assumed the role of grandfather, "My brother, Rhaegar was said to be a gifted musician. He would sing in the streets and give the money he made to the poor."

"I'll give my money to the poor, too," Rhaella grinned, even though she didn't think she was at that level. She hadn't even received her first coin, but perhaps in the future she would.

"The Meereenese enjoy singing and music," Daenerys said, almost like the people of King's Landing did in the peaceful part of the Mad King's reign. After her recent visit, she knew Rhaella would fit in well in Meereen- more so than she did in Braavos or Westeros. Rhaella would like the markets, the sun, and the lively people, "I've always wanted to take you there one day, since you were still a babe in my belly, but it wasn't safe to do so. You would like it there."

"Is it safe now?" Rhaella asked, and Daenerys smiled sadly. 

"I don't know," she whispered. Nowhere was safe, now that word spread far and wide that the Dragon Queen was still alive. Daenerys probably had more people wanting her dead than she could dream of, and it was obvious that her biggest weakness was the child she burned down Winterfell to save. "No safer than anywhere else."

"Mother, are people going to try to kill us?" Rhaella whimpered, suddenly afraid. Daenerys didn't want to answer because she didn't know what would happen, "This is all my fault. What are we going to do?"

Daenerys knelt down to her eye level and put her hands on Rhaella's cheeks, "Look at me." Her eyes were filled with fire, "None of this is your fault; it's mine, and I won't let you pay the price for my sins. I promised that I will always protect you, and I will." She hugged Rhaella tightly as a fierce protectiveness consumed her. _May the Gods have mercy on the man who tries to harm you or take you away from me,_ she thought.

"I want to go home," Rhaella murmured. "When can we go home?"

"Soon, zaldrītsos," Daenerys crooned. She was waiting for Yara Greyjoy and Quentyn Martell to arrive before heading back to Braavos. If everything had gone according to plan, they would come bearing gifts.

...

"What shall I do with you?" Yara taunted as she went to touch Sansa's face through the bars. The auburn haired woman scowled and crawled further back in her cage, while Yara laughed. "I could give you to Daenerys Targaryen. I'm sure she would enjoy torturing the woman who couldn't keep her mouth shut and was unjustly cruel to her daughter. I'm not sure that your brother would even beg for your release if given the opportunity."

"Leave her alone," Tyrion Lannister croaked. His cage was covered in vomit and filth unlike Sansa's which had a makeshift privy. Not only was he nauseated, his head spun from the lack of wine.

"Quiet dwarf," Yara scowled and rolled her eyes. She would have cut his tongue out if Daenerys hadn't wanted him intact. She turned to Sansa, "Maybe Daenerys will make you watch his execution before letting her dragon have his way with you."

The Northern girl tried to remain strong as she glared ahead, but Yara could see her fight to repress a shudder. There was nothing more amusing than watching Sansa's reactions to her taunts, "Perhaps, I'll try to ransom you to your brother instead. If word is to be believed, he and his council are heading towards Storm's End to take refuge with Gendry and your sister. Although I wonder if he would even bother with you, since his coffers are dry. I suppose I'll get a good laugh either way."

"You are betraying your King," Sansa spat. "Jon should kill you for treason."

"You Northern hypocrites with your betrayal disguised as honor have the nerve to judge me..." Yara scoffed before smirking. "No, Jon Snow won't kill me..."

"You don't know him," Sansa quipped. 

"Oh, but I do. Do you really think he would go after one of the few people who has ties with Daenerys? How long do you think it will take before he grovels at my feet to talk to her on his behalf or ask how Rhaella is doing?" 

"He was always the stupidest Stark," Sansa grumbled. She supposed it was because he was never truly a Stark; he was a Targaryen. She turned up her nose and looked away as Tyrion vomited on his cell floor. He coughed and muttered an apology, and she was just glad that the rocking of the boat didn't bother her.

While Yara couldn't quite disagree, she still shook her head. She didn't think he was stupid for loving his daughter. Before she left, she turned back to face Sansa, "I don't know what Theon ever saw in you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta mix some angst into the fluff. I know it probably wasn't as fluffy as some of you wanted, but I'm always open to future suggestions. 
> 
> Well now you know what happened to Tyrion and Sansa. What do you think Yara is going to do with Sansa? Take her chances with Jon Snow or see if Daenerys will do something with her?
> 
> Also, I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year!


	14. Enemies of the Dragon

Daenerys felt like a failure as a mother when Rhaella found a book about the life of Good Queen Alysanne in the library and struggled to read it. Books in their home in Braavos were written in High Valyrian or it's bastardized Braavosi version, and it never crossed her mind that Rhaella couldn't read in the Common Tongue. They had been speaking the Westerosi language more now than they ever did back home, and it made Dany more aware that Rhaella's minimal lessons were inadequate. However, Daenerys enjoyed taking turns reading whichever book Rhaella chose that night, and she liked any excuse for Rhaella to be in her arms. Her baby was growing up too fast, and she wanted to hang onto every moment Rhaella lovingly clung to her. She was fearful of the day when Rhaella would inevitably ask her more about her past, and she was more afraid of her pulling away. 

Daenerys wasn't sure if Rhaella was doing it for her benefit, but her daughter wouldn't really talk about her time in the North. She mentioned Gendry sometimes and Davos and Podrick once, but never Jon or the Starks. Even when Dany tried to pry Rhaella usually shrugged and tried to change the conversation. She supposed it was a good thing; Rhaella's feelings towards her father had the possibility to break her heart or fill her with uncontrolled rage, neither of which she wanted her daughter to witness. Daenerys decided that it was safer for both of them to steer clear of painful topics, so everything didn't change between them.

"Mother, what does perpa-tootie mean?" Rhaella asked as Daenerys tied a red ribbon in her hair, to keep the braids from coming undone. Rhaella had been reading quietly, while Daenerys french braided the crown of her head into a heart and let the rest of her silver curls hang down freely.

"Perpetuity?" Daenerys asked, and Rhaella nodded. "It means forever."

"The book says King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne loved each other in per-perpetuity. That's really sweet if it means forever," Rhaella sighed happily. She loved happy endings, and books about the Targaryens didn't usually end that way.

"It is. Do you want to know a secret, Rhaella?" Daenerys hummed, trying to hide her smirk. She motioned for her daughter, whose eyes sparkled with intrigue, to sit closer to her. Rhaella crawled over and looked at her expectantly.

"What's the-" Rhaella squealed when Daenerys began tickling her sides. She laughed so hard that she could barely breathe and tears pooled in her eyes. Rhaella could do nothing but giggle, as her mother relentlessly tickled all of her tickle spots, "Mother! Not fair!" Rhaella kicked and laughed as Daenerys grabbed her ankle and ticked her feet. "Not my toes! Mother, please, it tickles!" 

Daenerys let it go on for a few more minutes before she gently released her foot. "I'll love you in perpetuity," Daenerys said as she pulled Rhaella into her lap to let her recover. Rhaella giggled when Dany gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, "Forever."

"Me too, forever and ever," Rhaella laughed as she rubbed the happy tears out of her eyes. 

"I've been thinking," Daenerys began. Rhaella cocked her head to the side when her mother paused for a few seconds. "Would you like to have lessons where you could learn how to read, manage sums, and learn about the world?"

Daenerys never thought Rhaella would need to know how to manage a castle, deal with money, or anything about politics. She assumed her daughter would stay within the Dothraki tribe because that was the only option she had. Now, their future was uncertain. If Rhaella had to fight and conquer to survive, Daenerys wanted her to be prepared for the life of politics that came with it.

"With a real teacher?" Rhaella asked, fiddling with her fingers. She didn't like the lessons the nanny taught her at Winterfell.

"Yes, some of the Red Preists in Volantis are scholars. Kinvara says the Lord of Light wills them to teach you, but only if you wish to learn," Daenerys frowned. She didn't understand why her daughter was hesitant, especially since she liked learning new things. However, she didn't have much time to ponder. There were several loud knocks on her door. 

"We can talk about this later," Daenerys whispered and kissed Rhaella's cheek again before saying, "Come in."

"Your Grace, Princess," Yara said as she swaggered in the room and bowed her head in reverance.

"I hope the waters were kind," Daenerys said with a lazy smile that was more directed to Rhaella than the other woman. Yara made it to Dragonstone in good time, Daenerys thought.

"Kind enough, however, the company was unpleasant," Yara wrinkled her nose before grinning at Daenerys, who looked so blissful holding her child. "Although I think it's better now."

"Quentyn Martell was so bad that you left him behind?" Daenerys joked. Her cheeks soon grew hot with embarrassment at Yara's suggestive wink.

"No, not him. He's catching up with his children and wife in their chambers. He figured you wouldn't mind," Yara shrugged, even though she thought the man was too arrogant and insufferable at times.

"I don't," Daenerys murmured. She couldn't fault him for wanting to visit his family after being separated from them for a while. She wrapped her arms around Rhaella's middle, thankful that her child was back where she belonged.

"The cargo is in the dungeons," Yara said. "There was nowhere else to put it, so I suggest you figure out what to do with it quickly."

Daenerys nodded, subtly thanking the woman with her eyes, "Rhaella, this is Yara Greyjoy. She's been a friend for a long time."

"I know," Rhaella said shyly, even though she was never the type of child to hide behind her mother's skirts. She usually greeted people with enthusiasm and curiosity. Daenerys noticed and rubbed her back in encouragement. "Hello."

"Your mother told me you like the sea," Yara smiled. "Would you like a tour of my ship? It's quite beautiful to watch the dragons fly from the deck."

Rhaella's face brightened. Perhaps it was because she was conceived on a boat sailing away from Blackwater Bay, or maybe it made her feel closer to Missandei, but Rhaella truly loved the water and the beach. "Can we, Mother?"

"I have some things I need to take care of, but you can go with Yara," Daenerys said as her heart clenched. She trusted Yara, but it still made her nervous when Rhaella was out of her sight for long periods of time. However, she needed her daughter to be occupied for a while she dealt with the prisoners. Daenerys would have rather joined them anyway.

Rhaella bit her lip uncertainly until Yara promised she would teach her how to sail and suggested that Greyworm could come, too. Rhaella took Yara's proffered hand and happily skipped as Yara led her to the door. The woman looked back and nodded before they left, giving Daenerys a tiny bit of courage as she poured a glass of wine into a goblet before deciding that she might as well bring the whole decanter down to the dungeons with her.

...

The dungeons were slightly dusty, but overall they were not as bad as they could be. She had the rot and filth cleaned out when she took the castle the first time. Daenerys never took prisoners in the past, so they remained unused. The cell Yara chose for Tyrion wasn't as nice as the one she had given him in King's Landing, but it was more than he deserved now. 

Her disgraced Hand barely even looked up when her Unsullied guard unlocked the door. He was sitting on the hard bed in the corner finding something on the floor awfully fascinating. While the boat ride over wasn't kind to him, Daenerys thought time was even crueler; his filthy hair was starting to gray and his sunken face made him look like he aged thirty years.

"You look like shit," Daenerys said setting down the wine on a makeshift table. She often didn't swear, but she couldn't think of anything else to say without lashing out or bursting into tears. She had to be careful with her emotions because he could control her with his pretty words.

"Daenerys..." He trailed off as he hesitantly looked up. The wine soon became his main focus and one of her guards brought it over to him. Daenerys rolled her eyes as he greedily took the whole decanter and chugged it down. She wouldn't have bothered bringing it, but he was more coherent when he was drunk. 

When he finally had his fill he faced her again, "You look... very much alive."

"I am, no thanks to you," she said simply. She looked away from him and took a deep breath. There was a long pause, before she decided to speak, "I loved you. Not in the way you wanted, I'm sure, but I did. The day when I made you my Hand was one of the most heartfelt moments in my life. I thought you would be by my side forever... I hoped that you would have been like an uncle to Rhaella, since I had no other family besides Jon, and I didn't know if he would want her."

"I swear I didn't know about the baby, Daenerys. If I did-"

"Even if you did, you still would have abandoned me. I wouldn't have been surprised if you waited to persuade Jon to kill me until after Rhaella was done nursing. You loved your abusive sister more than you ever loved me," she cut him off. "Maybe if you and Varys would have talked to me instead of conspiring against me, things I would have been different. I may have spared your brother and Cersei, until she gave birth. I do know how much you loved your niece and nephew."

"I started to doubt you, and then you slaughtered a city; forgive me if it seems hard to imagine that anything would have changed that," Tyrion spat. Daenerys narrowed her eyes, and he cowered.

"Sometimes I think about where it all went wrong. Was it going North to help a kingdom that only wanted what I could provide for them, not me? Was it the fear that if I waited to go to King's Landing Cersei would grow stronger, the North would go back on their promise to help, and I would be incapacitated by childbirth? Was it when I decided not to tell Jon Snow about our baby inside me? Perhaps it was all of them in some way, but I know for certain that my biggest downfall was meeting and trusting you," Daenerys said. She tried to keep the sadness out of her voice, but he noticed.

"I'm sorry," he said, hanging his head in shame. "I'm so sorry. Rhaella is a sweet child."

Daenerys didn't want his pity. She didn't know whether he was being genuine or acting out of self preservation, and frankly she didn't care, "I told you that the next time you betrayed me would be the last time you betrayed me. You stole your third and final chance when you convinced Jon to murder me, and I cannot give you another. My child and I aren't safe while you still breathe."

"I stayed away from her in Winterfell. I wouldn't touch a single hair on her pretty little head," Tyrion pleaded. He stood up to get closer to Daenerys, but her guards blocked his way.

"No, you would pay someone else to do it," Daenerys said. She knew his nefarious ways.

"I wouldn't. Even if you don't believe me, I still care for you, Daenerys. You love your daughter more than anything, and she might be the only thing keeping you sane. I know Jon loves her, too, and I also care for him," he stated calmly.

Fire danced in Dany's eyes when he mentioned Jon, "Don't bring him into this."

Perhaps he truly had a death wish because he wasn't finished, "He was a good father; very attentive and patient with her unruly tendencies. You could hardly tell that she was raised in a Dothraki horde and not in a castle towards the end... it was almost as if she belonged in the North." 

Dany tried to put on a blank face as her eyes hardened. Fear and sadness swirled in her heart, thinking about how Rhaella might have been happier in Westeros living like a Princess with her Northern family. Jealousy pooled in her belly at the thought that Jon was a better parent, and Rhaella grew to prefer him more. 

"I suppose my execution will be quick. Probably quicker than Varys'," Tyrion murmured. She could tell Tyrion was resigned to his fate, yet spoke as if he didn't believe she would sentence him. "It will be like I never existed, and then you can get on with your life."

"Yes, it would only take a moment before you are nothing but ashes in the wind," Daenerys said thinking of Drogon burning the soldiers at Winterfell. It would be cathartic to watch his body dissolve into nothing. However, her thoughts returned to Jon and her inadequacies as a mother.

"I truly am sorry, Daenerys," he murmured, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I know," she sighed, taking several steps closer to him. Her guards silently protested her actions, but she held her hand up and they stood rooted in their places. "Perhaps you were right; stopping the wheel was just a beautiful dream."

"You set the wheel on fire," Tyrion said incredulously. "It broke."

"It never stopped. I suppose you didn't notice it spinning when you were on the top. Now you have no choice but to see that nothing has changed," Daenerys said. "I wanted to build the new world with you, but you were a coward."

"And you were going to burn everyone who disagreed with you," he yelled. Just like she killed Jaime, Cersei, and all the rest....

"You don't know what I would have done. You conspired to murder me before I even had the chance to think about what I truly wanted," she whispered. There was nothing he could do to harm her anymore. Daenerys stopped close enough for him to touch her and crouched down to his eye level. She tried not to get emotional, but tears glistened in her eyes as she held out the Hand of the Queen pin. Tyrion took it gingerly almost as if it was on fire. Why Greyworm had picked it up and put it with her possessions, she would never truly know.

"I'm sorry," he said, offering the pin back to her. He wasn't her Hand anymore, and he didn't want it for any sentimental reason, but she shook her head. She wouldn't take it back.

"You are my Hand," she said blinking the tears out of her eyes and seeing his filled with sadness. She cupped his cheek with one hand, forcing him to stare at her, "Now and always."

"Daenerys," he sputtered as she drove the dagger that killed her into his heart. He looked down and then back at her as she pulled it out.

"Drogon is too good to waste his energy on the likes of you," she said, mesmerized by the blood pouring out of the wound as he staggered backwards. She wondered if she had the same frantic expression and look of betrayal when she stared into Jon's eyes for the last time before she collapsed in his arms. As much as she had once cared for Tyrion, she did nothing as his body fell to the floor. She wiped the tears out of her eyes as he violently coughed up blood and convulsed. It soon became too much, and she had to look away. At least he died with his belly full of wine and not a baby...

"Is there blood on my skirts?" Daenerys asked her guards. The cell was silent, and she assumed Tyrion was dead. They shook their heads no, and she smiled meekly. She didn't want Rhaella to ask questions, "Good, have this cleaned up." 

Daenerys decided to leave before they asked her what to do with his body. She didn't care as long as she would never see his face again. Two of the guards bent down to pick up his remains as she left the cell, and she didn't look back.

Daenerys let indifference freeze her heart as she walked down the line of empty cells, clenching the knife in her hand as if he would somehow rise from the dead and come after her. Tyrion's blood still dripped down the blade, a subtle reminder that he couldn't hurt her anymore.

She almost didn't notice another heavily guarded cell as she was lost in her thoughts. Lord Bronn and Samwell Tarly had fled further North with the Wildlings, and no one else was really worth her time. Perhaps if the occupant wasn't shouting, she wouldn't have stopped out of curiosity.

"Lady Sansa," Daenerys said with an eyebrow raised. The woman's hair was sheared unevenly, and the smug smile she usually wore was replaced by a snarl. For a moment, the insufferable Northern woman looked surprised before reverting to her nasty visage. 

"Come to gloat?" Sansa questioned. She glared in the opposite direction, not wanting to give Daenerys respect she didn't deserve.

"No," Daenerys sighed. It seemed pointless to reveal that she didn't know Yara held her captive. 

"You must be proud of yourself for burning my ancestral home to take back your bastard brat. You've finally gotten everything you wanted," Sansa spat, squeezing the bars so hard that her already pale knuckles turned bone white.

"If you truly think this is what I wanted, you are more stupid than I thought," Daenerys growled. "Has it ever occurred to you that I wasn't your enemy? That I wanted us to get along?"

"So we could be sisters and braid each other's hair?" Sansa rolled her eyes, not knowing that was exactly what Daenerys had wanted. "Your sweet words of unity and loving my brother may have made me swoon as a child, but that naive little girl grew up."

"He always spoke so highly of you, that you and I were quite similar, and how he missed Arya and Bran," Daenerys smiled sadly, unable to say his name. "I didn't know any of you, but I was thrilled with the idea that I would finally have a family. I would have sisters who I could gossip with and a brother who was kind, but none of you liked me... When I finally accepted that I was pregnant, I thought the baby would fix everything..." Daenerys turned and looked her straight in the eyes. After Jon told her that he was a Targaryen, there was never a good and safe time to tell him or the Starks about Rhaella. She didn't want to talk about the past anymore, "How could you not love your brother's child?"

At least Sansa gave her the courtesy to look slightly guilty, "Because she is like you."

"Perhaps once, but I no longer have the patience to be kind to my enemies nor forgive them," Daenerys smirked, trying to hide the pang of sadness in her heart.

"A mad Targaryen," Sansa supplied, rolling her eyes, "Not a Stark."

"You're right, my Rhaella is not a Stark. She's sweet and kind, and she sees the beauty in things even when there isn't any. She's not deceitful or cruel or hateful or dishonorable," Daenerys smiled, "Not like a Stark at all."

"Then her babe-like qualities are fooling you, too. Bastards are sinful creatures by nature," Sansa smirked. She knew she struck a chord when Daenerys looked like she would strangle her through the bars. While Daenerys seethed and turned around to regain her composure, Sansa had some time to ponder. A realization hit her, "There's something wrong with her."

"My daughter is fine," Daenerys' head whipped around, and her eyes burned with fury, "Don't forget that you are in my dungeons, and I don't keep prisoners for very long."

"Jon will never forgive you," Sansa spat, finally noticing the bloody dagger in Daenerys' hand. She tried to fight off the wave of nausea that went up her throat at the thought that Daenerys already killed Tyrion.

"I don't want his forgiveness," Daenerys shrugged and turned to leave. She didn't care about his forgiveness, not when what he did to her was unforgivable.

"Take me to my brother!" Sansa screamed. 

"Why would I do that when he has nothing to offer me in return?" Daenerys said calmly. She didn't want whatever money Jon siphoned from Storm's End, even if it would be fitting for Rhaegar's son to bleed the Baratheon coffers dry, nor his apologies. "You are of no real use to me alive."

She blocked out Sansa's protests and screams, commanding her guards to keep a close eye on her. Perhaps she would bring the woman to the cliffs where she had executed Varys; Drogon was getting restless, and burning his enemies always made him feel better. The other part of her didn't want to prove Jon and Tyrion right. Either way Sansa Stark was insignificant and could rot in her cell for all Daenerys cared, so she turned to leave.

"You're a monster!" Sansa shouted, rattling the bars. She screamed in rage and panic. "Your little bitch of a daughter won't even love you when she finds out what you've been hiding... The last bloody Targaryen, thank the Gods."

Daenerys stopped in her tracks and swallowed dryly. She couldn't bring herself to look at the Stark woman, so she turned to the guards instead, "On second thought, perhaps a little fire will cleanse her treasonous soul."

Sansa paled and her mouth flopped like a fish before letting out a high pitched wail when the guards unlocked the bars and roughly dragged her out of the cell. She screamed and struggled, until a Dornish soldier knocked the wind out of her with a blow to the stomach. When she finally regained her breath she screamed for Brienne, Jon, and Arya to save her and yelled obscenities about Daenerys.

Dany ignored her. It was a pity that Sansa felt no remorse. Daenerys knew the inner workings of the woman's mind better than most, and she wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Everyone had made terrible mistakes, and ten years was enough for someone to turn a new leaf. She hoped Sansa wasn't the same nasty, bitter woman she met in Winterfell and held some affection towards Rhaella, but she was wrong. At least if she got rid of Sansa, it would make her death worth something more than the price of Jon's cowardice. He shouldn't have forgiven Sansa so soon for breaking her oath to keep his birth a secret after what it cost him.

If Sansa apologized and tried to recant the awful things she said, Daenerys didn't hear her. She saw Yara's main ship in the bay and wished she was with them as Drogon flew towards her. She hoped Rhaella was happily enthralled with whatever she was doing, and not wondering what Drogon was up to.

The cliff rumbled when Drogon landed behind her and some of the guards nearly lost their footing. She was unfazed as she felt his neck crane over her, warmth radiating off his massive body. Judging from Sansa's terrified expression, Daenerys assumed that he had slowly opened his jaws to show his sword like teeth.

"I'm sorry! Please!" Sansa cried as she struggled. "I'm sorry! Daenerys please!"

"I wish you were. You would have been a good Wardeness of the North," Daenerys sighed and looked to the soldiers holding the Stark girl. "Ivestragī zirȳla jikagon... _Let her go."_ The guards released Sansa, who looked at Daenerys wearily. "Do you have any last words?"

"My brother will kill you again," Sansa spat, glancing at the edge of the cliff.

"He can try, but I'm not the same naive girl I once was anymore," Daenerys said using Sansa's words against her as the woman inched backwards. She was ready for him if he decided to pull something this time, just as she was already anticipating that Sansa would try to run away. 

"Fuck you," Sansa screamed and bolted down the way they came. Daenerys shook her head at the guards, who tried to grab and follow her. The woman would have been better off trying her luck by jumping off the cliff. 

Dany didn't have to say anything; Drogon flapped his wings once, jolting over Daenerys and landed right in front of Sansa. The Stark girl screamed and tried to dodge away from him, letting out a blood curdling scream. He let her zig zag a few times before he lunged at her.

"Please, no!" Sansa screamed as she tripped backwards and landed on her ass, as Drogon advanced upon her, "Daenerys, please!"

Ignoring her pleas, Daenerys watched as Drogon played with her for a bit while Sansa screamed. Her Unsullied soldiers remained stoic, but the Ironborn and Dornish soldiers couldn't hold back their grimaces. She was unable to tear her eyes away when Drogon got bored, and his mannerisms turned predatory. 

Sansa's screams were cut off by the eerie sound of Drogon's jaw snapping shut as he ripped her body in half. He shook his head and spit out the corpse, which landed haphazardly with a violent thud. The dragon looked overly pleased with himself, and he let out a victorious roar.

Soon, Drogon flew back over and circled around Dany affectionately. He out a happy chirp, and Daenerys put her hand on his flank to calm her racing heart. She felt sick and couldn't bring herself to look at her guards reactions.

_No, this wasn't what she had wanted at all._

...

"Oh, Mother, I had so much fun!" Rhaella squealed, as she jumped on the bed where Daenerys was lying. "Yara let me steer the ship, and it was so magical when the dragons dove for fish! Yara said we could do it again tomorrow if you didn't mind. Even Greyworm looked happy," Rhaella said. Daenerys continued to stare at the ceiling, and Rhaella crawled over to snuggle into her side. A tear slipped down Daenerys' cheek. "Mother, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Daenerys wiped her eyes and smiled. Even though she felt terribly guilty, they had two less enemies than they did before, "Rhaella, I think it's time for us to go back home to Braavos."

"Oh," Rhaella murmured. She took her mother's sadness for the wish to stay in Westeros, and she had been thinking about staying on Dragonstone permanently quite a bit. It didn't seem like such a terrible idea as it once had, "We can stay here if you want to, and I can start taking those real lessons that can teach me how to be a princess. I do like it here." 

Aegon's Tower was bigger than the house with the red door and the lemon tree. She liked the spacious rooms adjoining the bedchamber and the elaborate bathing pool. And when she was older- well, when she wouldn't want to share a room with her mother anymore- she would take the Tower of Rhaenys and its many balconies overlooking the sea and mountains for herself. Maybe Yara could give her a ship, so she could sail around the bay and to take a trip to Storm's End one day to visit Gendry and Arya... and her father, if gossip was to be believed.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow slightly confused, "I thought you wanted to go home."

"I do, but it's okay," Rhaella smiled and patted Dany on the cheek. "I know this is what you always wanted," Rhaella motioned to everything around them, and teasingly poked her in the stomach, "Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of Westeros and Meereen, the Khaleesi of all the Dothraki, the fireproof, the ender of slavery, and the Mother of Dragons and Rhaella! Did I get it right?"

"Close enough," Daenerys chuckled and Rhaella grinned as her mother ruffled her hair. "But maybe now all I want to be is Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons and Rhaella."

"Why? You're so close to your dream," Rhaella said, not fully understanding, and Daenerys was taken aback, "You can be the Queen again."

"Oh, Rhaella," Daenerys scooped her into her arms. "You are my dream. Your happiness means more to me than any of those silly titles."

"I'll be happy if you're happy," Rhaella snuggled into her chest, "You earned them. I don't want you to give them up for me."

"I did, and most of them brought me more heartache and pain than they were worth in the end," Daenerys said. "The only thing that has made me truly happy in the last twelve years is being your mother."

"You don't have to choose. You'll always be my mother no matter what," Rhaella smiled. Daenerys was going to keep Dragonstone manned just in case she wanted to come back or Rhaella wanted her ancestral seat in the future anyways. "But I do miss the sun and our family."

"Then it's settled. We are going home," Daenerys said, wondering how two horrid people could make something so pure as she kissed Rhaella's forehead. She was ready to put Weseros behind her again, "Because I choose you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next stop Braavos (and Storm's End), where everything will go back to normal, right?
> 
> And I'm sorry this took so long to get out.


End file.
